
COPWacaT DERBtt 



/ 







EARLY LOVE OF TRUTH.— P, 6. 



THE LIFE 



OF 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



IN WORDS OF ONE SYLLABLE, 



BY 

JOSEPHINE POLLARD, 

'I 

AUTHOR OF "OUR HERO, GENERAL GRANT," "OUR NAVAL HEROES," '"THE HISTORY OF THE 
UNITED STATES," " THE LIFE OF CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS," ETC., ETC. 



NEW YORK: jiiL 

MCLOUGHLIN BROTHERS. '^ "^ ' 



PREFACE. 



THE life story of a public man cannot help being to some 
extent the same thing as a history of the times in which he lived, 
and to the case of none does this remark apply with more force 
than to that of the "Father of his Country;" which very title 
shows the degree to which the personality of its bearer became 
identified with the public life of the nation. While a great deal 
of the space in this book, consequently, has had to be devoted to 
American Revolutionary History, it is hoped that excess in this 
direction has been avoided, and that the main purpose of the work 
will be attained, i. e. to give its young readers a distinct and 
vivid idea of the exalted character and priceless services of 
Washington, so far as these can be brought within the under- 
standing of a child. 



CONTENTS. 



Chapter I. 
Chapter II. 
Chapter III. 
Chapter IV. 
Chapter V. 
Chapter VI. 
Chapter VII. 
Chapter VIII. 
Chapter IX. 
Chapter X. 
Chapter XL 
Chapter XII. 
Chapter XIII. 
Chapter XIV. 
Chapter XV. 



BOYHOOD . . . .05 

YOUTH II 

THE FIRST STEP TO FAME. ..... 17 

TO THE FRONT 24 

AS AIDE-DE-CAMP 33 

COLONEL OF VIRGINIA TROOPS. ... 39 

THE HOME OF WASHINGTON. ..... 45 

THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. ... 52 

COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF 61 

IN AND NEAR NEW YORK 71 

A SAD YEAR . ■ 7B> 

FOES IN THE CAMP.. ...... 84 

THE HARDSHIPS OF WAR 93 

THE CLOSE OF THE WAR 103 

FIRST IN PEACE no 



TH E LIFE OF 



GEORGE WASHINGTON. 



m *, * ■» ^ 



CHAPTER L 



BOY-HOOD 



George Wash-ing-ton was 
born in the State of Vir-gin-i-a, 
at a place known as Bridg-es 
Creek, on Feb-ru-a-ry 22, 1732. 
His great grand -sire, John 
Wash-ing-ton, came from Eng- 
land in the year 1657, and took 
up lands in that state and was a 
rich man. George was the son 
of his grand-son Au-gus-tine. 
Au-gus-tine's first wife was Jane 
But-ler who died and left him 
with two boys. His next wife 
was Ma-ry Ball, and George 
was her first child. 

The old home-stead in which 
George was born stood near the 
banks of the Po-to-mac Riv-er, 
and was built with a steep roof 
that sloped down to low eaves 
that hung out far from the main 



wall. There were four rooms on 
the ground floor, and some "near 
the roof, and at each end of the 
house was a^ great fire-place 
built of brick, with broad hearth- 
stones, such as were in style in 
those days. 

A stone is all that marks the 
birth-place of George Wash- 
ing-ton. He was not more than 
eight years of age when his fa- 
ther went to live on a farm near 
the Rap-pa-han-nock Riv-er. 
The house was built much in 
the same style as the one at 
Bridg-es Creek, but it stood on 
high ground, and here all his 
boy-hood days were spent. 

As there were no good schools 
in A-mer-i-ca at that time, those 
who had the means sent their 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



sons to Eng-land to be taught 
and trained. Law-rence Wash- 
ing-ton was sent when he was 
15 years of age, and as he was 
the first-born it was thought 
that he would in time take his 
fa-ther's place, as head of the 
house. 

The school to which George 
was sent stood in a field on his 
fa-ther's land, and was taught 
by a man named Hob-by. This 
gave it the name of the " Hob- 
by School." 

There were but three things 
taught there : How to read — 
How to write — and How to do 
sums — and some folks thought 
that these were all their boys 
and girls had need to learn. 
Books were scarce and dear, 
and as most of the men raised 
fine crops, and kept up a brisk 
trade, they were well pleased to 
have their boys learn how to 
buy and sell, and to make out 
bills. George had been trained 
by his fa-ther, who was a strict 
and yet a just man, to love the 
truth and to do right at all times. 
He was made to feel that it was 



a sin to tell a lie, and much 
worse to hide a fault than to 
own it. 

George had a small axe of 
which he was quite proud, and 
boy-like, he cut right and left 
with it, and thought not of the 
harm he might do. On the 
lawn stood a small tree which 
his fa-ther hoped to see grow 
up to a good height and to bear 
fine fruit. George made a great 
gash in this tree with his sharp 
axe, and when his fa-ther saw 
it he was quite sad. He called 
the boy to his side, and in a 
stern voice said : 

"Who did this? Who cut 
this tree ? " 

George hung his head with 
shame. He knew he had done 
wrong ; and he stood in fear of 
his fa-ther, who he knew would 
use the rod where there was 
need of it. It was a chance for 
the boy to show what kind of 
stuff he was made of. George 
raised his face, still red with the 
blush of shame, and said in his 
frank way, and with-out a sign 
of fear: 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



"I did it, fa-ther, I can-not 
tell a lie." 

There was no need to use the 
rod on such a boy as that, and 
the fa-ther must have felt a thrill 
of joy when he found that the 
great truths he had taught his 
son had such a hold on his 
mind and had struck their roots 
deep in-to his heart. 

It is told that he clasped 
George to his breast, and said 
with tears in his eyes ; that it 
would grieve him less to lose 
scores and scores of trees, than 
to have his boy tell one lie. 

But you must not think that 
George Wash-ing-ton was such 
a. good-good boy that he could 
guide him-self, and did not need 
to be kept in check. He was 
high strung, as quick as a flash, 
and felt that he was born to rule, 
and these traits his mother had 
to keep down and train so that 
they would not wreck the young 
boy, for when George was not 
yet twelve years of age his fa- 
ther died, and his mo-ther was 
left with the care of five young 
folks. The task was one for 



which she was well fit, as she 
had rare good sense, a fine 
mind, a strong will, and a kind 
heart. 

She used to read to her boys 
and girls each day out of some 
good book, talk with them, and 
tell them how they could best 
serve God and man, and George 
laid up each word in his heart, 
and sought to pay her back as 
well as he could for all her kind 
love and care. 

She said of George that he 
was *'a good boy; " and it has 
been said in her praise that " a 
no-ble mo-ther must have borne 
so brave a son.'* 

When George was 13 and 
his half-bro-ther Law-rence 21, 
Eng-land and Spain went to 
war, and Law-rence went with 
the troops that were sent to the 
West In-dies. The siHit of 

o 

Law-rence in war-like trim, the 
sound of drum and fife, and the 
march of troops through the 
streets, fired the heart of the 
young lad, and from that time 
his plays and games, in school 
and out, took on a war-like turn. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



There was a boy at school, 
named Wil-H-am Bus-tie, who 
took up arms and marched with 
as much zeal as George Wash- 
ing-ton. But George was at all 
times com-mand-er-in-chief ! 

He was fond of all the sports 
that boys love, and could run, 
and jump, and climb, and toss 
bars, and took part in all those 
feats that kept him in health 
and strength. 

He could pitch quoits with 
great skill, and the place is 
shown at Fred -er-icks- burg 
where, when a boy, he flung a 
stone a-cross the Rap-pa-han- 
nock. He was fond of a horse, 
and there was no steed so wild 
that George could- not mount 
on his back and tame him. 

Mrs. Wash-ing-ton had a 
colt which she thought so much 
of that she let it run loose in 
the field. He was so fierce that 
no one had dared to get on his 
back. 

One day George went out to 
view the colt with some of his 
boy friends, and he told them 
that if they would help him put 



the bit in the colt's mouth he 
would mount. The boys drove 
the colt in-to a small lot, put the 
bit in his mouth, and Wash-ing- 
ton was soon on his back. The 
beast rushed in-to the field, but 
was soon curbed by the strong 
arms of the boy on his back. 
Then the colt reared and plunged 
and tried in all sorts of ways to 
get rid of the lad, who clung to 
the colt's bare back as if he had 
been glued there. Mad with 
rage the colt tried once more 
to throw him, but strained too 
hard, and fell to the ground and 
died in a short time. 

The group of boys were well 
scared at this sad end of their 
fun, and scarce knew what to do. 
When they went back to the 
house Mrs. Wash-ing-ton asked 
the boys if they had seen her 
fine breed of colts. **The one 
I am most proud of," said she, 
'* I am told is as large as his 
sire." Some of the lads hung 
their heads and knew not what 
to say ; but George spoke up in 
his frank way and said that the 
colt was dead. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



** Dead ! " cried she ; ** and 
from what cause ? " 

Then George told her just 
what had been done, and how 
hard the beast had fought to 
get free, and how at the last, 
with one wild fierce plunge, he 
fell down and died. 

A flush rose to the mo-ther's 
cheek, and then she said to her 
boy: "It is well; but while I 
grieve at the loss of my fine 
colt, I feel a pride and joy in 
my son, who speaks the truth 
at all times." 

George was fond of his books 
too, and was so wise a lad, and 
so full of thought, and had so 
keen a sense of what was just, 
that his school-mates came to 
him when they got in-to a war 
of words, or of blows, that he 
might say which side was right 
and which was wrong, and thus 
put an end to the fight. This 
use of his mind made George 
look at things in a clear light, 
and gave him that look of true 
pride which all men of high 
mind, the real kings of earth, 
are wont to wear. 



In due time George out-grew 
the Hob-by School, and was 
sent to live with his half-bro- 
ther Au-gus-tine, at Bridg-es 
Creek, where there was a school 
of a high grade. But George 
had no taste for Lat-in or Greek, 
and liked best to do sums, and 
to draw maps. He wrote with 
great care, page after page of 
what he called '' Forms of Wri- 
ting." 

These were notes of hand, 
bills of sale, deeds, bonds, and 
the like, such as one would 
think a boy of 13 would not 
care much a-bout. 

In this same book (it is kept 
to this day) George wrote out 
one hun-dred and ten '* Rules," 
which were to guide him in act 
and speech at home and a-broad. 
Some few of these I will give 
you, that you may see at how 
young an age this boy set out 
to train him-self, and fit him- 
self for the high place he was 
to fill. It al-most seems as if 
he must have known the high 
rank he was to take ; but this 
could not be. His soul was 



lO 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



fixed on high things ; he had 
no low tastes ; and he was led 
by the hand of God. 

Here are some of the rules 
that George Wash-ing-ton took 
as the guide of his youth. 

" In the pres-ence of o-thers sing not 
to your-self with a hum-ming noise, nor 
drum with your fin-gers or feet. 

*' Sleep not when o-thers speak, sit 
not when o-thers stand, speak not when 
you should hold your peace, walk not 
when o-thers stop. 

"Turn not your back to o-thers when 
speak-ing ; jog not the table or desk on 
which an-o-ther reads or writes ; lean 
not on a-nv one. 

"Read no let-ters, books, or pa-pers 
in com-pa-ny ; but when there is a need 
for do-ing it, you inust ask leave. Come 
not near the books or wri-tings of a-ny 
one so as to read them, un-less asked to 
do so, nor give your o-pin-ion of them 
un-asked ; al-so look not nigh when an- 
o-ther is wri-ting a let-ter. 

" In wri-ting or speak-ing give to each 
per-son his due ti-tle ac-cord-ing to his 
rank and the cus-tom of the place. 

"When a man does all he can, though 
it suc-ceeds not well, blame not him 
that did it. 

" Be slow to be-lieve e-vil re-ports of 
a-ny one. 

" Be mod-est in your dress and seek to 
suit na-ture rather than to win ad-mi- 
ra-tion. Keep to the fash-ion of your 
e-quals, such as are civ-il and or-der-ly 
with re-spect to times and pla-ces. 



"Play not the pea-cock, look-ing all 
a-bout you to see if you be well decked, 
if your shoes fit well, your stock-ings sit 
neat-ly, and your clothes hand-some-ly. 

" Make friends with those of good 
char-ac-ter, if you care for your own 
rep-u-ta-tion, for it is bet-ter to be a-lone 
than in bad com-pa-ny. 

" Speak not of dole-ful things in time 
of mirth, nor at the ta-ble ; speak not of 
mourn-ful things, as death, and wounds, 
and if o-thers men-tion them, change, 
if you can, the dis-course. 

" Ut-ter not base and fool-ish things 
'mongst grave and learn-ed men ; nor 
hard ques-tions or sub-jects a-mong the 
ig-no-rant ; nor things hard to be be- 
lieved. 

" Be not for-ward, but friendly and 
court-e-ous ; the first to sa-lute, hear, and 
an-swer ; and be not pen-sive when it 
is time to con-verse. 

" Gaze not on the marks or blem- 
ish-es of o-thers, and ask not how they 
came. 

" Think be-fore you speak, pro-nounce 
not im-per-fect-ly, nor bring out your 
words too hast-i-ly, but or-der-ly and 
dis-tinct-ly. 

" Treat with men at fit times a-bout 
bus-i-ness ; and whis-per not in the 
com-pa-ny of o-thers. 

" Be not cu-ri-ous to know the af-fairs 
of o-thers, nor go near to those that 
speak in pri-vate. 

" Un-der-take not to do what you 
can-not per-form, but be care-ful to keep 
your prom-ise. 

" Speak not e-vil of the ab-sent, for it 
is un-just. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



II 



" Make no show of ta-king great de- 
light in your food ; feed not with greed- 
i-ness ; cut your bread with a knife ; 
lean not on the ta-ble ; nei-ther find 
fault with what you eat. 

"When you speak of God, let it be 
grave-ly and in re-ver-ence. Hon-or 
and o-bey your pa-rents, al-though they 
be poor. 

" Let your a-muse-ments be man-ful, 
not sin-ful. 



" La-bor to keep a live in your breast 
that lit-tle spark of ce-les-ti-al fire, 
called con-sci-ence." 

It is not known where George 
found these rules he took so 
much pains to write out, but it 
is plain that he set great store 
by them, and made use of them 
through out his whole life. 



CHAPTER II. 



YOUTH. 



George was a great pet with 
his bro-ther, Law-rence Wash- 
ing-ton, who thought it would 
be a nice thing for him to serve 
on board one of the King's 
ships-of-war. While Law-rence 
was in the West In-dies he was 
on good terms with Gen-er-al 
Went-worth and Ad-mi-ral Ver- 
non, and he had no doubt they 
would do their best to get hi^ 
bro-ther a good place. He^ 
spoke to George a-bout it, and 
the boy was wild with joy. His 
mo-ther's pride was roused, and 
at first she did not put a straw 



in his way, but gave him all the 
help she could. But as the time 
drew near, her heart, which had 
been so strong and brave and 
full of pride, gave way and she 
felt that she could not part with 
her dear boy. 

One of her friends wrote to 
Law-rence that Mrs. Wash-in g- 
ton had made up her mind not 
to let George go to sea. She 
said that some of her friends 
had told her it was a bad plan^ 
and '' I find," said he ''that one 
word a-gainst his go-ing has 
more weight than ten for it." 



12 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



So they gave up the scheme, 
and George was sent back to 
school. 

He would, on fine days, go 
out in the fields and tracts of 
land a-round the school-house, 
and with, line and rod take the 
size and shape, the length and 
width, and mark it all down in 
one of his books, and so much 
pains did he take that from the 
first to the last page not a blot 
or blur is to be seen. 

These neat ways, formed in 
his youth, were kept up through 
all his life, and what seems 
strange is that day-books, and 
such books as you will find in 
great use now-a-days were not 
known at that time. The plan 
had been thought out by George 
Wash-ing-ton when a boy of 
i6, and shows the cast of his 
mind. 

Near this time George was 
sent to live with his bro-ther 
Law-rence, at his fine place on 
the Po-to-mac, which he had 
called Mount Ver-non, to show 
how much he thought of the 
ad-mi-ral of that name. 



Here George had a chance 
to make friends with those of 
high rank, and he spent much 
of his time with George Fair- 
fax who made his home at 
Bel-voir, near Mount Ver-non. 
Lord Fair-fax, a man of wealth 
and worth was much at Bel- 
voir at that time. He had bought 
large tracts of land in Vir-gin- 
i-a, which had not been staked 
out, or set off in-to lots. In 
fact he did not know their size 
or shape, but he had heard that 
men had sought out some of the 
best spots, and had built homes 
there, and laid out farms for 
which they paid no rent, and he 
thought it quite time to put a 
stop to such things. 

In March, 1748, George 
Wash-ing-ton, who had been 
picked out by Lord Fair-fax for 
this task, went on his first trip 
with George Fair-fax to stake 
off these wild lands. He wrote 
down what was done from day 
to day, and by these notes we 
learn that he had quite a rough 
time of it, and yet found much 
that was to his taste. He and 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



13 



the men with him rode for miles 
and miles through lands rich in 
grain, hemp, and to-bac-co, and 
through fine groves of trees on 
the bank of a broad stream. 

One night, writes George, 
when they had been hard at 
work all day, they came to the 
house v/here they were to be 
fed and lodged. The wood-men 
w^ent to bed with their clothes 
on, but George took his off, and 
as he turned in he found his bed 
was of loose straw with not a 
thing on it but the thread-bare 
blank-et he was to wrap him- 
self in. The fleas and bugs 
soon forced George to get up 
and put on his clothes and lie 
as the rest of the men did, and 
*'had we not been so tired," he 
says '* I am sure we should not 
have slept much that night." 
He made a vow then that he 
would sleep out of doors near a 
fire when on such tramps, and 
run no more such risks. 

On March 18, they reached a 
point on the Po-to-mac, which 
they were told they could not 
ford. There had been a great 



rain-fall and the stream had not 
been so high, by six feet, as it 
was at that time. They made 
up their minds to stay there for 
a day or two ; went to see the 
Warm Springs, and at night 
camped out in the field. At the 
end of two days, as the stream 
was still high, they swam their 
steeds to the Ma-ry-land side. 
The men crossed in birch-bark 
boats, and rode all the next day 
in a rain storm to a place two- 
score miles from where they had 
set out that morn. Wash-ing- 
ton writes that the road was 
"the worst that had ev-er been 
trod by man or beast." 

On March 23, they fell in with 
a score or two of red -men 
who had been off to war and 
brought home but one scalp, 
and they had a chance to see a 
war-dance. The red-men cleared 
a large space, and built a fire in 
the midst of it, round which 
they all sat. One of the men 
then made a grand speech in 
which he told them how they 
were to dance. 

When he had done, the one 



X4 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



who could dance the best sprang 
up as if he had just been roused 
from sleep, and ran and jumped 
round the ring in a queer kind 
of way. The rest soon joined 
him, and did just as he did. 
By this time the band made it- 
self heard, and I shall have to 
tell you what a fine band it was. 
There was a pot half full of 
wa-ter with a piece of deer-skin 
stretched tight on the top, and 
a gourd with some shot in it, 
and a piece of horse's tail tied 
to it to make it look fine. One 
man shook the gourd, and one 
drummed all the while the rest 
danced, and I doubt if you 
would care to hear the noise 
that was made. 

Late in the day of March 26, 
they came to a place where 
dwelt a man .named Hedge, 
who was in the pay of King 
George as jus-tice of the peace. 
Here they camped, and at the 
meal that was spread there was 
not a knife nor a fork to eat with 
but such as the guests had 
brought with them. 

On the night of the first of 



A-pril the wind blew and the 
rain fell. The straw on which 
they lay took fire, and George 
was saved by one of the men, 
who woke him when it was in 
a blaze. 

" I have not slept for fpur 
nights in a bed," wrote Wash- 
ing-ton at this time to one of 
his young friends at home, " but 
when I have walked a good 
deal in the day, I lie dov/n on 
a heap of straw, or a bear-skin 
by the fire, with man, wife, 
young ones, dogs, and cats ; 
and he is in luck who gets the 
place next the fire." 

For thre^ years he kept up 
this mode of life, but as it was 
a hard life to lead he could be 
out but a few weeks at a time. 
His pay was a doub-loon a day, 
and some-times six pis-toles. 

A doub-loon is a gold coin 
of Spain, worth not quite 16 
dol-lars. A pis-tole is a small 
gold coin of Spain, worth not 
quite four dol-lars. 

This rough kind of life, though 
he did not know it, was to fit 
him for the toils and ills of war, 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



15 



of which he may have dreamt 
in those days, as he still kept 
up his love for war-like things. 

While at work on the land 
round the Blue Ridge, he now 
and then made his way to Green- 
wa/y Court where Lord Fair-fax 
dwelt at this time. Here he 
had a chance to read choice 
books, for Lord Fair-fax had a 
fine mind though his tastes were 
queer. He lived on a knoll, in 
a small house not more than 
twelve feet square. All round 
him were the huts for his 
"help," black and white. Red- 
men, half breeds, and wood-men 
thronged the place, where they 
were sure they would get a 
good meal. He had steeds of 
fine breed, and hounds of keen 
scent, for he was fond of the 
chase, and the woods and hills 
were full of game. 

Here was a grand chance for 
George, who had a great taste 
for field-sports, and his rfdes, 
and walks, and talks with Lord 
Fair-fax were a rich treat to the 
home-bred youth. This wise 
friend lent George good books 



which he took with him to the 
woods and read with great care, 
and in this way stored his mind 
with rich thoughts. 

In Vir-gin-i-a there were 
some few men who had served 
in the late war 'twixt Eng-land 
and Spain, and they put George 
through such a drill with sword 
and with gun that he learned to 
use them both with great skill. 

A Dutch-man, named Van- 
Bra-am, was one of these men, 
and he claimed to know a great 
deal of the art of war. He it 
was that took George in hand 
to teach him the use of the 
sword, and how to fence. 

When he was 19 years of age 
the red-men and the French 
had made such in-roads on the 
front, that it was thought best 
to place men on guard to keep 
back these foes, and to up-hold 
the laws of the state of Vir- 
gin-i-a. There was need of 
some one to take charge of a 
school-of-arms at one of the 
chief out-posts where the French 
sought to get a foot-hold, and 
the choice fell on George Wash- 



i6 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



ing-ton, who set to work at once 
to fit him-self for the place. 

Hisbroth-er's ill health caused 
this scheme to be dropped for a 
time, as Law-rence was forced to 
go to the West In-dies for change 
of air, and begged George to 
go with him. George gave up 
all thought of self, and the two 
set sail for Bar-ba-does, Sep- 
tem-ber 28, 1751. At sea he 
kept a log-book, took notes of 
the course of the winds, and if 
the days were fair or foul, and 
learned all he could of the ways 
of a ship and how to sail one. 

They reached Bar-ba-does on 
No-vem-ber3, and were pleased 
with the place, and all the strange 
sights that met their gaze. On 
all sides were fields of corn and 
sweet cane, and groves of trees 
rich in leaves and fruit, and all 
things held out a hope of cure 
for the sick man, whose lungs 
were in a weak state. 

They had been but two weeks 
in Bar-ba-does when George 
fell ill with small-pox, and this 
for a time put an end to all their 
sports. But he had the best of 



care, and at the end of three 
weeks was so well that he could 
go out of doors. 

Law-rence soon tired of this 
place, and longed for a change 
of scene. They had to ride out 
by the first dawn of day, for by 
the time the sun was half an 
hour high it was as hot as at 
mid-day. There was no change 
in the sick man's health, and he 
made up his mind to go to Ber- 
mu-da in the spring. He was 
lone-some with-out his wife, 
so it was planned that George 
should go back home and bring 
her out to Ber-mu-da. 

George set sail, De-cem-ber 
22, and reached Vir-gin-i-a at 
the end of five weeks. He must 
have been glad to step on shore 
once more, for the cold winds 
and fierce storms to be m-^t with, 
at sea, at that time of the year, 
made life on ship-board some- 
thing of a hard-ship. 

Law-rence did not gain m 
health, and ere his wife could 
join him he wrote her that he 
would start for home — "to his 
sfrave." He reached Mount 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



17 



Ver-non in time to die 'neath 
his own roof, and with kind 
friends at his bed-side. His 
death took place on the 26th of 
Ju-ly, 1752, when he was but 
34 years of age. 

He had been Hke a fa-ther to 
Georee, and their hearts were 
bound by ties so strong and 
sweet that it was a great grief 
for them to part. 



But George had no time to 
sit down and mourn his loss. 
There was work for him to do. 
New cares were thrust on him 
by his bro-ther's death, that 
took up all his time and thoughts 
for some months ; and he had 
to keep up his drills with the 
men at the school - of- arms, 
for which he was paid by the 
State. 



CHAPTER HI. 



THE FIRST STEP TO FAME. 



The time had now come 
when Wash-ing-ton was to take 
a fresh start in life, and win for 
him-self high rank. 

The French, who thought 
they had just as good a right 
as the Eng-lish to take up land 
in A-mer-i-ca, pressed their 
claims, and built forts on the 
great Lakes and on the banks 
of the 0-hi-o Riv-er. They 
made friends of the red-men at 
or near these posts, and made 



it known that they would fight 
the Eng-lish at all points. 

The red-men on the north 
shore of Lake On-ta-ri-o were 
good friends with the French ; 
but those on the south shore 
were not. They had been well 
dealt with by the Eng-lish, and 
their chief, Half- King, did^ not 
like the war-like move that was 
made by the French. 

He went to the French post 
on Lake E-rie, and spoke thus 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



to the troops there : "You have 
no riofht to come here and build 
towns, and take our land from 
us by fraud and force. We 
raised a flame in Mon-tre-al 
some time a-go, where we asked 
you to stay and not to come 
here on our land. I now ask 
you to go back to that place, 
for this land is ours. 

" Had you come in a peace- 
ful way, like the Eng-lish, we 
should have let you trade with 
us as they do, but we will not 
let you come and build on our 
land and take it by force. 

"You and the Eng-lish are 
white. We live in a land be- 
tween you, to which you and 
they have no right. The Great 
Be-in g gave it to us. We have 
told the Eng-lish to move off, 
and they have heard us, and 
now we tell it to you. W^e do 
not fear you, and we mean to 
keep you both at arm's length." 

The French-man said to Half- 
King: "You talk like a fool. 
This land is mine, and I will 
have it, let who will stand up 
a- gainst me. I have no fear 



of such as you. I tell you that 
down the 0-hi-o I will go, and 
build forts on it. If it were 
blocked up I have troops e-nough 
to break through it and to tread 
down all who would try to stop 
me. My force is as the sand 
of the sea !" 

This proud speech made Half- 
King feel as if he had been 
stabbed to the heart. It was 
the death-blow to his race. But 
he turned with hope and trust 
to the Eng-lish, who thus far 
had not shown a wish to do 
what was not just to his tribe. 

On Oc-to-ber 30, 1753, Wash- 
ing-ton set out from Will-iams- 
burg in Vir-gin-i-a with a small 
band of men. He was just 
of age, and ranked as Ma-jor 
Wash-ing-ton. He was to go 
to the French out-post near Lake 
E-rie, with a note from Gov- 
er-nor Din-wid-die to the head 
man there, and to ask for a re- 
ply in the name of King George. 

He was to find out where forts 
had been built, -and how large 
a force of troops had crossed 
the Lakes, and to learn all that 




WASHINGTON'S FIRST SPEECH TO THE INDIANS. -P. 19. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



19 



he could of those who had dared 
to set up the flag of France on 
soil which the Eng-lish claimed 
as their own. 

Wash - ing - ton's route lay 
through thick woods and swamps 
where the foot of man had not 
trod ; he had to climb steep and 
rough hills where wild beasts 
had their lairs ; and to cross 
streams on frail rafts, if they 
could not swim or ford them- 
There were but eight men in 
the whole band, and the post 
they were to reach lay 560 miles 
off, and the whole of the way 
had to be made on horse-back 
or on foot. 

They met some of the In-di-an 
chiefs at a place called Logs- 
town and Wash-ing-ton made 
his first speech to the red-men. 
He told them what he had come 
for, and asked that some of their 
braves might go with him as 
guides and safe- guards for the 
rest of the way. He then gave 
them what was called a "speech- 
belt," wrought with beads, as a 
sign that they were friends and 
full of peace and good-will. 



The chiefs were mild and 
full of peace. They said that 
Wash-ing-ton might have some 
of their men as guides, but he 
would have to wait for two or 
three days as the young braves 
had gone out in search of game. 

This Wash-ing-ton could not 
do. There was no time to lose, 
and so he set out with but four 
red-men as guides, and Half- 
King was one of them. 

Through rain and snow, 
through a long stretch of dark 
woods that seemed to have no 
end, through deep streams and 
swamps where there was no 
sure foot-hold for man or beast, 
the brave band kept on their 
way. At the end of 35 days 
from the time they left Will-iams- 
burg they reached a place called 
Ven-an-go, where they saw a 
house from the top of which a 
French flag flew, and Wash-ing- 
ton called a halt. The head 
man in charge asked him and 
his friends to sup with him. 
The wine was passed with a free 
hand, but Wash-ing-ton did not 
drink like his French host. He 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



knew he would need to keep a 
cool head for his work. When 
the French-man had his tongue 
loosed by the wine, he told a 
good deal. 

'*We have got the land," he 
said, "and we mean to keep it. 
You Eng-lish may have two 
men to our one, but you are 
slow. It takes you a long time 
to move." 

The man's tongue wagged 
on in a free way, and Wash- 
ing-ton, who had kept his wits, 
wrote down all he said that 
could be of use to him. 

The next day it rained hard 
and they could not go on. Then 
for the first time the French- 
man found that there were red- 
men with the Eng-lish. Wash- 
ing-ton had kept them back, 
for he feared to trust them to 
the wiles of the French. But 
now the shrewd man made a 
great time, and hailed them as 
dear friends. He was so glad 
to see them ! How could they 
be so near and not come to see 
him ? He gave them gifts and 
plied them with strong drink, 



till Half-King and his braves 
thought no more of what they 
had pledged to the Eng-lish. 
They were soon in such a state 
that they did not care to move. 
It took some time for Wash- 
ing-ton to get them free from 
the wiles of the French, and it 
took four days more of snow and 
rain, through mire and swamp, 
to reach the fort for which they 
had set out. 

Here Wash-ing-ton met the 
chief of the fort and made known 
the cause that had brought him. 
He gave him the note from 
Gov -er- nor Din-wid-die, in 
which it was asked why the 
French had come in-to a State 
that was owned by Great Brit- 
ain, and they were bid to go in 
peace. The French took two 
days in which to think of the 
course they should take, and in 
this time Wash-ing-ton set 
down in his note book the size 
and strength of the fort and all 
that he could find out. He told 
his men to use their eyes, and 
to count the boats in the stream, 
and the guns in the fort. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



21 



The first chance he had, 
Wash-ing-ton drew a plan of 
this fort, and it was sent to 
Eng-land for King George to 
see. 

Wash-ing-ton saw that the 
Half-King and the braves with 
him had much to say to the 
French, and he did not trust 
them. He heard that the Eng- 
lish who sought to trade on the 
O-hi-o were seized by the 
French, and that some red-men 
had passed the fort with two or 
three white scalps. 

All this made him wish to get 
off safe with his small band, and 
when the French chief gave 
him a sealed note, he had a 
shrewd guess as to what was 
in it. At last, when the start 
was to be made, the French 
chief had large stores of food 
and wine put on their boats, and 
made a great show of good 
will, but at the same time he 
tried to keep the red-men with 
him, and told them he would 
give them guns for gifts the 
next day. Wash-ing-ton was 
pressed by the red-men to wait 



that long for them, and the next 
morn the French had to give 
the guns. Then they tried to 
get the red-men to drink once 
more, but Wash-ing-ton plead 
with them, and at last got them 
to start. 

It was hard to steer the boats, 
as the stream was full of ice, and 
at times they had to leap out 
and stand in the wet for half an 
hour at a time, to drag the boats 
by main force off the shoals. 
On the part of the trip that had 
to be made by land, they had a 
hard time too. It was cold, the 
roads were deep in mire, and the 
steeds were so worn out, that it 
was feared they would fall by 
the way. Wash-ing-ton gave 
up his horse to help bear the 
food and things for use, and he 
asked his friends to do so too. 
They all went on foot, and the 
cold grew worse. There was 
deep snow that froze as it fell. 
For three days they toiled on 
in a slow way. 

At last Wash-ing-ton made 
up his mind to leave the men 
and steeds in charge of one of 



22 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



his band, and to strike off with 
his pack on his back and his 
gun in his hand by a way which, 
it seemed to him, would take 
him home by a short cut. He 
had the sealed note that he 
wished to give up as soon as he 
could. He took but one man 
with him. At night they lit 
a fire, and camped by it in the 
woods. At two in the morn, 
they were once more on foot. 

They fell in with a red-man 
who claimed to know Mr. Gist, 
the man who was with Wash- 
ing-ton, and called him by his 
name in his own tongue and 
seemed glad to see him. They 
asked the red-man if he would 
go with them and show them 
a short-cut to the Forks of the 
Al-le-gha-ny Riv-er. The red- 
man seemed glad to serve them, 
and took Wash-ing-ton's pack 
on his own back. Then the 
three set out, and walked at a 
brisk pace for eight or ten miles. 

By this time Wash-ing-ton's 
feet were so sore that he could 
not take a step with-out pain, 
and he was well tired out. He 



thought it best to camp where 
they were, and the red-man 
begged Wash -ing- ton to let 
him bear his gun. But the 
Ma-jor would not let it go out 
of his own hands. This made 
the red-man cross, and he urged 
them to keep on and said there 
were red-skins in the woods 
who would scalp them if they 
lay out all night. He would 
take them to his own hut where 
they would be safe. 

The white men lost faith in 
their guide, and were soon quite 
ill at ease. When the red-man 
found that he could not make 
them go his way, or do as he 
said, he ceased to wear the face 
of a friend. At heart he was 
the foe of all white men. All at 
once he made a stop, and then 
turned and fired on them. 

Wash-ing-ton found that he 
was not hit, so he turned to Mr. 
Gist, and said, "Are you shot?" 

•* No," said Gist. Then the 
red-man ran to a big white oak 
tree to load his gun. Gist 
would have killed him, but 
Wash-ing-ton would not let him. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



23 



Gist says, *• We let him charge 
his gun. We found he put in a 
ball ; then we took care of him. 
The Ma-jor or I stood by the 
guns. We made him make a 
fire for us by a small run as if 
we meant to sleep there. I said 
to the Ma-jor ; ' As you will not 
have him killed, we must get rid 
of him in some way, and then 
we must march on all night ;' on 
which I said to the red-man, * I 
suppose you were lost and fired 
your gun.' 

"He said he knew the way 
to his log-hut and it was not 
far off. 'Well,' said I, 'do you 
go home ; and as we are tired 
we will fol-low your track in 
the morn-ing, and here is a 
cake of bread for you, and you 
must give us meat in the morn- 
ing.' He was glad to get off," 
Wash-ing-tonsays, "We walked 
all the rest of the night, and 
made no stop, that we might 
get the start so far as to be out 
of their reach the next day, 
since we were quite sure they 
would get on our track as soon 
as it was light.' 



But no more was seen or 
heard of them, and the next 
night, at dusk, the two white 
men came to the Al-le-gha-ny, 
which they thought to cross on 
the ice. 

This they could not do, so 
they had to go to work with 
but one small axe, and a poor 
one at that, and make a raft. It 
was a whole day's work. They 
next got it launched, and went 
on board of it ; then set off. 

But when they were in mid- 
stream the raft was jammed in 
the ice in such a way that death 
seemed to stare them in the face. 

Wash -ing- ton put out his 
pole to stay the raft so that the 
ice might pass by ; but the tide 
was so swift that it drove the ice 
with great force. It bore down 
on the pole so hard that Wash- 
ing-ton was thrown in-to the 
stream where it was at least ten 
feet deep. He would have been 
swept out of sight if he had not 
caught hold of one of the raft 
logs. As they found they could 
not cross the stream, or get back 
to the shore they had left, they 



24 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



quit the raft, and got on a small 
isle near which they were borne 
by the tide. 

But this was not the end of 
their ill luck. It was so cold 
that Mr. Gist's hands and feet 
froze, and both he and Wash- 
ing-ton were in great pain 
through-out the long dark night. 
A gleam of hope came with the 
dawn of day, for they found the 
ice 'twixt them and the east 
bank of the stream was so hard 
as to bear their weight, and they 
made their way on it, and the 
same day came to a place where 
they could rest. Here they 
spent two or three days. 

They set out on the first of 
Jan-u-a-ry, and the next day 



came to Mon-on-ga-he-la, where 
Wash-ing-ton bought a horse. 
On the nth he got to Bel- voir, 
where he stopped one day to 
take the rest he was in need of, 
and then set out and reached 
Will-iams-burg on the i6th of 
Jan-u-a-ry. He gave to Gov- 
er-nor Din-wid-die the note he 
had brought from the French 
chief, showed him the plans of 
the fort, and told him all that 
he had seen and done. 

The fame of his deeds, of the 
ills he had borne, and the nerve 
and pluck he had shown, was 
soon noised a -broad, and 
George Wash-ing-ton, though 
a mere youth, was looked up to 
by young and old. 



CHAPTER IV. 



TO THE front! 



The French chief in his note 
to Gov-er-nor Din-wid-die had 
said, in words that were smooth 
but clear, that he would not 
leave the banks of the 0-hi-o ; 



so the Eng-lish felt as if it were 
time for them to make a move, 
though they did not wish to 
bring on a war. 

Land was set off on the O-hi-o 





OFF TO THE FRONT, APRIL 2, 1 754-.— P. 25. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



25 



where a fort was built, and the 
rest of it left for the use of the 
troops. 

Wash-ing-ton was asked to 
lead the troops, but he shrank 
from it as a charge too great for 
one so young. So Josh-u-a Fry 
was made Col-o-nel, and Wash- 
ing-ton Lieu-ten-ant Col-o-nel 
of a force of 300 men. 

It was hard work to get men 
to join the ranks. The pay was 
small, and those who had good 
farms and good homes did not 
care to leave them. Those who 
had a mind to go were for the 
most part men who did not 
like to work, and had no house 
or home they could call their 
own. 

Some were bare-foot, some 
had no shirts to their backs, and 
not a few were with-out coat or 
waist-coat, as the vest was called 
in those days. 

If it was hard v/ork to get 
this kind of men, 'X was still 
more of a task to find those 
who would serve as chiefs, and 
Wash-ing-ton found him-self 
left in charge of a lot of raw 



troops who knew no will but 
their own. 

But Van- Bra-am, who had 
taught Wash-ing-ton how to 
use the sword, was with him, 
and gave him just the aid he 
had need of at this time. 

On A-pril 2, 1754, W^ash-ing- 
ton, at the head of 150 men, set 
off for the new fort at the Fork 
of the O-hi-o. The roads were 
rough, and the march was slow, 
and it was not till A-pril 20 that 
they reached Will's Creek. 
Here they were met by a small 
force, Jn charge of Cap-tain Ad- 
am Ste-phen. The rest of the 
force, with the field-guns, were 
to come by way of the Po-to- 
mac. These last were in charge 
of Col-o-nel Fry. 

When Wash-ing-ton reached 
Will's Creek word was brought 
him that a large force of French 
troops had borne down on the 
new fort. Cap-tain Trent, who 
was in charge of the few troops 
in the fort, was a-way at the 
time, and the young En-sign 
Ward did not know what to do. 
He sought the aid of Half- 



26 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



King, who told him to plead 
with the French, and to beg 
them to wait till the Cap-tain 
came back, and the two went at 
once to the French camp. But 
the French w^ould not wait, or 
make terms of peace. They 
had come as foes, and told En- 
sign Ward that if he did not 
leave the fort at once, with all 
his men, they would put him 
out by force. All the French 
would grant was that oiir men 
might take their tools with them ; 
so the next morn they filed out 
of the fort, gave up their arms, 
and took the path to the woods. 
The French took the fort and 
built it up, and called it Fort 
Du-quesne [kane), which was 
the name of the Gov-er-nor of 
Can-a-da. 

When the sad news was 
brought to Wash-ing-ton he 
was at a loss to know what 
to do, or which way to turn. 
Here he was with a small band 
of raw troops right in the midst 
of foes, red and white, who 
would soon hem them in and 
use them ill if they found out 



where they were. Yet it would 
not do to turn back, or show 
signs of fear. Col-o-nel Fry 
had not yet come up and the 
weight of care was thrown on 
Wash-ing-ton. 

He let the Gov-er-nors of 
Penn-syl-va-ni-a and Ma-ry- 
land know of his plight, and 
urged them to send on troops. 
But none came to his aid. 

He had a talk with his chief 
men, and they all thought it 
would be best to push on through 
the wild lands, make the road as 
they went on, and try to reach 
the mouth of Red-stone Creek, 
where they would build a fort. 
By this means the men would 
be kept at work, their fears 
would be quelled, and a way 
made for the smooth and swift 
march of the troops in the rear. 

There was so. much to be 
done that the men, work as 
hard as they might, could not 
clear the way with much speed. 
There were great trees to be 
cut down, rocks to be moved, 
swamps to be filled up, and 
streams to be bridged. While 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



27 



in the midst of these toils, the 
bread gave out, and the lack of 
food made the men too weak to 
work. In spite of all these ills 
they made out to move at the 
rate of four miles a day, up steep 
hills, and through dense woods 
that have since borne the name 
of "The Shades of Death." 

While at a large stream where 
they had to stop to build a 
bridge, VVash-ing-ton was told 
that it was not worth while for 
him to try to go by land to Red- 
stone Creek, when he could go 
by boat in much less time. 

This would be a good plan, if 
it would work ; and to make sure, 
Wash-ing-ton took five men 
with him in a bark boat down 
the stream. One of these men 
was a red-skin guide. When 
they had gone ten miles, the 
guide said that that was as far 
as he would go. Wash-ing-ton 
said, "Why do you want to leave 
us now ? We need you, and 
you know that we can not get 
on with-out you. Tell us why 
you wish to leave." 

The red-man said, "Me want 



gifts. The red-men will not work 
with-out them. The French 
know this, and are wise. If 
you want the red-men to be 
your guides, you must buy 
them. They do not love you 
so well that they will serve you 
with-out pay." 

Wash-ing-ton told the guide 
that when they got back he 
would give him a fine white 
shirt with a frill on it, and a good 
great-coat, and this put an end 
to the "strike" for that time. 
They kept on in the small boat 
for a score of miles, till they 
came to a place where there was 
a falls in the stream at least 40 
feet. This put a stop to their 
course, and Wash-ing-ton went 
back to camp with his mind 
made up to go on by land. 

He was on his way to join 
his troops when word was 
brought him from Half- King to 
be on his guard, as the French 
were close at hand. They had 
been on the march for two days, 
and meant to strike the first foe 
they should see. 

Half- King said that he and 



28 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



the rest of his chiefs would be 
with Wash-ing-ton in five days 
to have a talk. 

Wash-ing-ton set to work at 
once to get his troops in shape 
to meet the foe. Scouts were 
sent out There was a scare in 
the night. The troops sprang 
to arms, and kept on the march 
till day-break. In the mean- 
time, at nine o'clock at night, 
word came from Half- King, 
Avho was then six miles from 
the camp, that he had seen the 
tracks of two French-men, and 
the whole force was near that 
place. 

Wash-ing-ton put him-self at 
the head of two score men, left 
the rest to guard the camp, and 
set off to join Half-King. The 
men had to grope their way by 
foot-paths through the woods. 
The night was dark and there 
had been quite a fall of rain, so 
that they slipped and fell, and 
lost their way, and had to climb 
the great rocks, and the trees 
that had been blown down and 
blocked their way. 

It was near sun -rise when 



they came to the camp of Half- 
King, who at once set out with 
a few of his braves to show 
Wash-ing-ton the tracks he had 
seen. Then Half-King called 
up two of his braves, showed 
them the tracks, and told them 
what to do. They took the 
scent, and went off like hounds, 
and brought back word that 
they had traced the foot-prints 
to a place shut in by rocks and 
trees where the French were in 
camp. 

It was planned to take them 
off their guard. Wash-ing-ton 
was to move on the right, 
Half-King and his men on the 
left. They made not a sound. 
Wash-ing-ton was the first on 
the ground, and as he came out 
from the rocks and trees at the 
head of his men, the French 
caught sight of him and ran to 
their arms. 

A sharp fire was kept up on 
both sides. De Ju-mon-ville, 
who led the French troops, was 
killed, with ten of his men. 
One of Wash-ing-ton's men was 
killed, and two or three met 



LIFE OF WASHIXGTOX. 



29 



with wounds. None of the red- 
men were hurt, as the French 
did not aim their guns at them 
at all. In less than half an hour 
the French gave way, and ran, 
but Wash-ing-ton's men soon 
came up with them, took them, 
and they were sent, in charge 
of a strong guard, to Gov-er- 
nor Din-wid-die. 

This was the first act of war, 
in which blood had been shed, 
and Wash-incr-ton had to bear 
a great deal of blame from both 
France and Eng-land till the 
truth was made known. He 
was thought to have been too 
rash, and too bold, and in more 
haste to make war than to seek 
for peace. These sins were 
charged to his youth, for it was 
not known then how much more 
calm, and wise, and shrewd he 
was than most men who were 
twice his age. 

The French claimed that this 
band had been sent out to ask 
Wash-ing-ton, in a kind way, 
to leave the lands that were held 
by the crown of France. But 
Wash-in cr- ton was sure thev 



were spies ; and Half-King said 
they had bad hearts, and if our 
men were such fools as to let 
them go, he would give them 
no more aid. 

Half- King was full of fight, 
and Wash-in or- ton was flushed 
with pride, and in haste to move 
on and brave the worst. He 
wrote home: "The Min-s^oes 
have struck the French, and I 
hope will give a good blow be- 
fore they have done." 

Then he told of the fight he 
had been in, and how he had 
won it, and was not hurt though 
he stood in the midst of the 
fierce fire. The balls whizzed 
by him, "and," said Wash-ing- 
ton *T was charmed with the 
sound." 

This boast came to the ears 
of George H. who said, in a dry 
sort of a way, " He would not 
say so if he had heard ma-ny." 

When long years had passed, 
some one asked Wash-ing-ton 
if he had made such a speech. 
"If I did," said he, "it was 
when I was young." And he 
was but 22 years of age. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



He knew that as soon as the 
French heard of the fight and 
their bad luck, they would send 
a strong force out to meet him, 
so he set all his men to work to 
add to the size of the earth- 
work, and to fence it in so that 
it might be more of a strong- 
hold. Then he gave to it the 
name of Fort Ne-ces-si-ty, for 
it had been thrown up in great 
haste in time of great need, 
when food was so scant it was 
feared the troops would starve 
to death. At one time, for six 
days they had no flour, and, of 
course, no bread. 

News came of the death of 
Col-o-nel Fry, at Will's creek, 
and Wash-ing-ton w^as forced 
to take charge of the whole 
force. Fry's troops— 300 in all- 
came up from Will's Creek, 
and Half-King brought 40 red- 
men with their wives and young 
ones and these all had to be fed 
and cared for. 

Young as he was Wash-ing- 
ton was like a fa-ther to this 
strange group of men. On Sun- 
days, when in camp, he read to 



them from the word of God, and 
by all his acts made them feel 
that he was a good and true 
man, and fit to be their chief. 

The red-men did quite well 
as spies and scouts, but were 
not of much use in the field, 
and they, and some men from 
South Car-o-li-na, did much to 
vex young Wash-ing-ton. 

Half-King did not 'like the 
way that white men fought, so 
he took him-self and his band oft 
to a safe place. The white men 
from South Car-o-li-na, who 
had come out to serve their king, 
were too proud to soil their 
hands or to do hard work, nor 
would they be led by a man of 
the rank of Col-o-nel. 

In the midst of all these 
straits Wash-ing-ton stood calm 
and firm. 

The South Car-o-li-na troops 
were left to guard the fort, while 
the rest of the men set out to 
clear the road to Red -stone 
Creek. Their march was slow, 
and full of toil, and at the end 
of two weeks they had gone but 
13 miles. Here at Gist's home, 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



31 



where they stopped to rest, word 
came to Wash -in g- ton that a 
larpfe force of the French were 
to be sent out to fight him. 
Word was sent to the fort to 
have the men that were there 
join them with all speed. 

They reached Gist's at dusk, 
and by dawn of the next day 
all our troops were in that place, 
where it was at first thought 
they would wait for the foe. 

But this plan they gave up^ 
for it was deemed best to make 
haste back to the fort, where 
they might at least screen them- 
selves from the fire of the foe. 

The roads were rough ; the 
heat was great; the food was 
scant, and the men weak and 
worn out. There were but few 
steeds, and these had to bear 
such great loads that they could 
not move with speed. 

Wash -ing- ton gave up his 
own horse and went on foot, 
and the rest of th^ head men 
did the same. 

The troops from Vir-gin-i-a 
worked with a will and would 
take turns and haul the big field 



guns, w^hile the King's troops, 
from South Car-o-li-na, walked 
at their ease, and would not 
lend a hand, or do a stroke of 
work. 

On the morn of Ju-ly 3, 
scouts brought word to the fort 
that the French were but four 
miles off, and in great force. 
Wash-ing-ton at once drew up 
his men on the ground out-side 
of the fort, to wait for the foe. 

Ere noon the French were 
quite near the fort and the sound 
of their guns was heard. 

Wash-ing-ton thought this 
w^as a trick to draw his men out 
in-to the woods, so he told them 
to hold their fire till the foe came 
in sight. But as the French did 
not show them-selves, though 
they still kept up their fire, he 
drew his troops back to the fort 
and bade them fire at will, and 
do their best to hit their mark. 

The rain fell all day long, so 
that the men in the fort were 
half drowned, and some of the 
guns scarce fit for use. 

The fire was kept up till eight 
o'clock at night, when the French 



z^ 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



sent word they would like to 
make terms with our men. 

Wash-ing-ton thought it was 
a trick to find out the state of 
things in the fort, and for a 
time gave no heed to the call. 
The French sent two or three 
times, and at last brought the 
terms for Wash-ing-ton to read. 
They were in French. There 
was no- thing at hand to wTite 
with, so Van Bra-am, who could 
speak French, was called on to 
give the key. 

It was a queer scene. A light 
was brought, and held close 
to his face so that he could see 
to read. The rain fell in such 
sheets that it was hard work to 
keep up the flame. Van Bra-am 
mixed up Dutch, French, and 
Eng-lish in a sad way, while 
Wash-ing-ton and his chief aids 
stood near with heads bent, and 
tried their best to guess what 
was meant. 

They made out at last that 
the main terms were that the 
troops might march out of the 
fort, and fear no harm from 



French or red -skins as they 
made their way back to their 
homes. The drums might beat 
and the flags fly, and they could 
take with them all the goods 
and stores, and all that was in 
the fort — but the large guns. 
These the French would break 
up. And our men should pledge 
them-selves not to build on the 
lands which were claimed by 
the King of France for the space 
of one year. 

The weak had to yield to the 
strong, and Wash-ing-ton and 
his men laid down their arms 
and marched out of the fort. 

A note of thanks was sent to 
Wash-ing-ton, and all his head 
men but Van Bra-am, who was 
thought to have read the terms 
in such a way as to harm our 
side and serve the French. 

But there were those who felt 
that Van Bra-am was as true as 
he was brave, and that it was 
the fault of his head and not his 
heart, for it was a hard task for 
a Dutch-man to turn French in-to 
Eng-lish, and make sense of it. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



IZ 



CHAPTER V. 



AS A I D E - D E - C iV M P 



In Spite of the way in which 
the fight at Great Mead-ows 
came to an end Gov -er- nor 
Din-wid-die made up his mind 
that the troops, led by Wash- 
ing-ton, should cross the hills 
and drive the French from Fort 
Du-quesne. 

Wash-ing-ton thought it a 
wild scheme ; for the snow lay 
deep on the hills, his men were 
worn out, and had no arms, nor 
tents, nor clothes, nor food, such 
as would fit them to take the 
field. It would need gold to 
buy these things, as well as to 
pay for fresh troops. 

Gold was placed in the Gov- 
er-nor's hands to use as he 
pleased. Our force was spread 
out in-to ten bands, of loo men 
each. The King's troops were 
put in high rank, and Col-o- 
nel Wash-ing-ton was made 
Cap-tain. This, of course, was 
more than he could bear, so he 



left the ar-my at once, and with 
a sad heart. 

In a short time Gov-er-nor 
Sharpeof Ma-ry-land was placed 
by King George at the head of 
all the force that was to fight 
the French. He knew that he 
would need the aid of Wash- 
ing-ton, and he begged him to 
come back and serve with him 
in the field. But Wash-ing-ton 
did not like the terms, and paid 
no heed to the call. 

The next Spring, Gen-er-al 
Brad-dock came from Eng-land 
with two large bands of well- 
trained troops, which it was 
thought would drive the French 
back in-to Can-a-da. Our men 
were full of joy, and thought 
the war would soon be at an 
end. Brad-dock urged Wash- 
ing-ton to join him in the field. 
Wash-ing-ton felt that he could 
be of great use, as he knew the 
land and the ways of red-men, 



34 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



SO he took up the sword once 
more, as Brad-dock's aide-de- 
camp, 

Ben-ja-min Frank-lin, who 
had charge of the mails, lent his 
aid to the cause, and did all that 
he could to serve Brad-dock 
and his men. Brad-dock, with 
his staff and a guard of horse- 
men, set out for Will's Creek, 
by the way of Win-ches-ter, in 
A-pril, 1755. He rode in a fine 
turn-out that he had bought of 
Gov-er-nor Sharpe, which he 
soon found out was not meant 
for use on rough roads. But 
he had fought with dukes, and 
men of high rank, and was fond 
of show, and liked to put on a 
great deal of style. 

He thought that this would 
make the troops look up to 
him, and would add much to his 
fame. 

In May the troops went in-to 
camp, and Wash-ing-ton had a 
chance to learn much of the art 
of war that was new and strange 
to him, and to see some things 
that made him smile. 

All the rules and forms of 



camp-life were kept up. One 
of the head men who died while 
in camp, was borne to the grave 
in this style: A guard marched 
in front of the corpse, the cap- 
tain of it in the rear. Each 
man held his gun up-side down, 
as a sign that the dead would 
war no more, and the drums 
beat the dead march. When 
near the grave the guard formed 
two lines that stood face to face, 
let their guns rest on the ground, 
and leaned their heads on the 
butts. The corpse was borne 
twixt these two rows of men 
w^ith the sword and sash on the 
top of the box in which he lay, 
and in the rear of it the men 
of rank marched two and two. 
When the corpse was put in the 
ground, the guard fired their 
guns three times, and then all 
the troops marched back to 
camp. 

The red -men — the Del-a- 
wares and Shaw-nees came to 
aid Gen-er-al Braddock. With 
them were White Thun-der, 
who had charge of the "speech- 
belts," and Sil-ver Heels, who 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



35 



was swift of foot. Half-King 
was dead, and White Thun-der 
reigned in his stead. 

The red-men had a camp to 
them-selves, where they would 
sing, and dance, and howl and 
yell for half the night. It was 
fun for the King's troops to 
watch them at their sports and 
games, and they soon found a 
great charm in this wild sort 
of life. 

In the day time the red-men 
and their squaws, rigged up in 
their plumes and war paint, 
hung round Brad-dock's camp, 
and gazed spell-bound at the 
troops as they went through 
their drills. 

But this state of things did 
not last long, and strife rose 
twixt the red and white men, 
and some of the red-skins left 
the camp. They told Brad-dock 
they would meet him on his 
march, but they did not keep 
their word. 

Wash -ing- ton was sent to 
Will-iams-burg to bring the 
gold of which there was need, 
and when he came back he found 



that Brad-dock had left a small 
guard at Fort Cum-ber-land, on 
Will's Creek, and was then on 
his way to Fort Du-quesne. He 
would give no heed to those 
who knew more of the back- 
woods than he did, nor call on 
the red-men to serve as scouts 
and guides. He w^as not used 
to that kind of war-fare, and 
scorned to be taught by such a 
youth as George Wash-in g-ton*. 

The march was a hard. one 
for man and beast. Up steep 
hills and through rough roads 
they had to drag the guns, and 
Brad-dock soon found out that 
these new fields were not like 
the old ones on which he had 
been w^ont to fight. 

Hard as it was for his pride 
to seek the aid of so young a 
man, he was at last forced to 
ask Wash-ing-ton to help him 
out of these straits. 

They had then made a halt 
at Lit-tle Mead-ows. Wash- 
ing-ton said there was no time 
to lose. They must push on at 
once. 

While at this place Cap-tain 



36 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



Jack, and his brave band of 
hunts -men came in-to camp. 
They were fond of the chase, and 
were well-armed with knives and 
guns, and looked quite like a 
tribe of red-skins as they came 
out of the wood. 

Brad-dock met them in a stiff 
sort of way. Cap -tain Jack 
stepped in front of his band and 
said that he and his men were 
used to rough work, and knew 
how to deal with the red-men, 
and would be glad to join the 
force. 

Brad-dock looked on him with 
a gaze of scorn, and spoke to 
him in a way that roused the 
ire of Cap-tain Jack. He told 
his men Avhat had been said, 
and the whole band turned their 
backs on the camp, and went 
through the woods to their old 
haunts where they were known 
and prized at their true worth. 

In the mean-time Wash-ing- 
ton, who had had a head-ache 
for some days, grew so ill that 
he could not ride on his horse, 
and had to be borne part of the 
time in a cart. 



Brad-dock — who well knew 
what a loss his death would be 
— said that he should not go on. 
Wash-ing-ton plead with him, 
but Brad-dock was firm, and 
made him halt on the road. 
Here he was left with a guard, 
and in care of Doc-tor Craik, 
and here he had to stay for two 
long weeks. By that time he 
could move, but not with-out 
much pain, for he was still quite 
weak. It was his wish to join 
the troops in time for the great 
blow, and while yet too weak to 
mount his horse, he set off with 
his guards in a close cart, and 
reached Brad-dock's camp on 
the eighth of Ju-ly. 

He was just in time, for the 
troops were to move on Fort 
Du-quesne the next day. The 
fort was on the same side of the 
Mon-on-ga-he-la as the camp, 
but twixt them lay a pass two 
miles in length, with the stream 
on the left and a high range of 
hills on the right. The plan 
was to ford the stream near the 
camp, march on the west bank 
of the stream for five miles or 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



11 



SO, and then cross to the east 
side and push on to the fort. 

By sun-rise the next day the 
troops turned out in fine style, 
and marched off to the noise of 
drum and fife. To Wash-ing- 
ton this was a grand sight. 
Though still weak and ill, he 
rode his horse, and took his 
place on the staff as aide-de- 
camp. 

At one o'clock the whole force 
had crossed the ford north of 
the fort, and were on their way 
up the bank, when they were 
met by a fierce and sharp fire 
from foes they could not see. 
Wild war-whoops and fierce 
yells rent the air. What Wash- 
ing-ton feared, had come to pass. 
Brad-dock did his best to keep 
the troops in line ; but as fast 
as they moved up, they were cut 
down by foes screened by rocks 
and trees. 

Now and then one of the red- 
men would dart * out of the 
woods with a wild yell to scalp 
a red-coat who had been shot 
down. Wild fear seized Brad- 
dock's men, who fired and took 



no aim. Those in the front 
rank were killed by those in the 
rear. Some of the Vir-gin-i-a 
troops took post back of trees, 
and fought as the red-men did. 
Wash-ing-ton thought it would 
be a good plan for Brad-dock's 
men to do the same. But he 
thought there was but one way 
for troops to fight, and that 
brave men ought not to skulk 
in that way. When some of 
them took to the trees, Brad- 
dock stormed at them, and called 
them hard names, and struck 
them with the flat of his sword. 

All day long Wash-ing-ton 
rode here and there in the midst 
of the fight. He was in all parts 
of the field, a fine mark for the 
guns of the foe, and yet not a 
shot struck him to do him harm. 
Four small shots went through 
his coat. Two of his steeds 
were shot down ; and though 
those who stood near him fell 
dead at his side, Wash-ing-ton 
had not one wound. 

The fight raged on. Death 
swept through the ranks of the 
red-coats. The men at the guns 



38 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



were seized with fright. Wash- 
ing-ton sprang from his horse, 
wheeled a brass field-piece with 
his own hand, and sent a good 
shot through the woods. But 
this act did not bring the men 
back to their guns. 

Brad-dock was on the field 
the whole day, and did his best 
to turn the tide. But most of 
his head-men had been slain in 
his sight; five times had he been 
forced to mount a fresh horse, 
as one by one was struck down 
by the foe-man's shot, and still 
he kept his ground and tried to 
check the flight of his men. 

At last a shot struck him in 
the right arm and went in-to his 
lungs. He fell from his horse, 
and was borne from the field. 
The troops took fright at once, 
and most of them fled. The 
yells of the red-men still rang 
in their ears. 

"All is lost!" they cried. 

" Brad-dock is killed ! " 

Wash-ing-ton had been sent 
to a camp 40 miles ofl", and was 
on his way back when he heard 
the sad news. 



But Brad-dock did not die at 
once. He was brought back to 
camp, and for two days lay in 
a calm state but full of pain. 
Now and then his lips would 
move and he was heard to say, 
"Who would have thought it! 
We shall know how to deal with 
them the next time !" 

He died at Fort Ne-ces-si-ty 
on the night of Ju-ly 13. Had 
he done as Wash-ing-ton told 
him he might have saved his 
own life, and won the day. But 
he was a proud man, and when 
he made up his mind to do a 
thing he would do it at all risks. 
Through this fault he missed 
the fame he hoped to win, lost 
his life, and found a grave in a 
strange land. 

His loss was a great gain to 
Wash-ing-ton, for all felt that 
he, so calm, so grave, so free 
from fear, was the right sort 
of man to lead troops to war. 
Those who had seen him in the 
field thought that he bore a 
charmed life, for though he 
stood where the shot fell thick 
and fast he was not hurt, and 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



39 



showed no signs of fear. 



But 



Wash-ing-ton was weak, and 
in need of rest, and as the death 
of Brad-dock left him with no 
place in the force, he went back 
to Mount Ver-non where he 



thought to spend the rest of his 
days. 

The fight which he took part 
in as aide-de-camp, and which 
had so sad an end, goes by the 
name of Brad-dock' s de-feat. 



CHAPTER VI. 



COL-O-NEL OF YIR-GIN-I-A TROOPS. 



The troops in Vir-gin-i-a 
were left with-out a head. There 
was no one to lead them out to 
war, and if this fact came to the 
ears of the French, they would 
be more bold. 

Wash-ing-ton' s friends urged 
him to ask for the place. But 
this he would not do. His bro- 
ther wrote him thus: "Our 
hopes rest on you, dear George. 
You are the man for the place : 
all are loud in your praise." 

But Wash-ing-ton was firm. 
He wrote back and told in plain 
words all that^he had borne, and 
how he had been served for the 
past two years. 

•T love my land," he said, 



"and shall be glad to serve it, 
but not on the same terms that 
I have done so." 

His mo-ther begged him not 
to risk his life in these wars. 
He wrote her that he should do 
all that he could to keep out of 
harm's way, but if he should 
have a call to drive the foes from 
the land of his birth, he would 
have to go ! And this he was 
sure would give her much more 
pride than if he were to stay at 
home. 

On the same day, Au-gust 
13, that this note was sent, word 
came to Wash-ing-ton that he 
had been made chief of all the 
troops in Vir-gin-i-a, and the 



40 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



next month he went to Win- 
ches-ter to stay. 

Here he found much to do. 
There was need of more troops, 
and it was hard work to get 
them. Forts had to be built, 
and he drew up a plan of his 
own and set men to work it out, 
and went out from time to time 
to see how they got on with it. 
He rode off thus at the risk of 
his life, for red-men lay in wait 
for scalps, and were fierce to do 
deeds of blood. 

The stir of war put new life 
in-to the veins of old Lord Fair- 
fax. He got up a troop of 
horse, and put them through a 
drill on the lawn at Green-way 
Court. He was fond of the 
chase, and knew how to run 
the sly fox to the ground. The 
red-man was a sort of fox, and 
Fair-fax was keen for the chase, 
and now and then would mount 
his steed and call on George 
Wash-ing-ton, who was glad 
to have his kind friend so near. 

In a short time he had need 
of his aid, for word came from 
the fort at Will's Creek that a 



band of red-men were on the 
war-path with fire-brands, and 
knives, and were then on their 
way to Win-ches-ter. 

A man on a fleet horse was 
sent post-haste to Wash-ing- 
ton, who had been called to 
Will-iams-burg, the chief town. 

In the mean- time Lord Fair- 
fax sent word to all the troops 
near his home to arm and haste 
to the aid of Win-ches-ter. 

Those on farms flocked to the 
towns, where they thought they 
would be safe ; and the towns- 
folks fled to the west side of the 
Blue Ridee. In the hei^rht of 

o o 

this stir Wash-ing-ton rode in- 
to town, and the sight of him 
did much to quell their fears. 

He thought that there were 
but a few red-skins who had 
caused this great scare, and it 
was his wish to take the field 
at once and go out and put 
them to flight. But he could 
get but a few men to go with 
him. The rest of the town 
troops would not stir. 

All the old fire-arms that were 
in the place were brought out, 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



41 



and smiths set to work to scour 
off the rust and make them fit 
to use. 

Caps, such as are now used 
on guns, were not known in 
those days. FHnt stones took 
their place. One of these was 
put in the lock, so that when it 
struck a piece of steel it would 
flash fire, and the spark would 
set off the gun. These were 
called flint-lock guns. 

Such a thing as a match had 
not been thought of, and flint 
stones were made use of to light 
all fires. 

Carts were sent off for balls, 
and flints, and for food with 
which to feed all those who had 
flocked to Win-ches-ter. 

The tribes of red-men that 
had once served with Wash-ing- 
ton, were now on good terms 
with the French. One of their 
chiefs, named Ja-cob, laughed 
at forts that were built of wood, 
and made his boast that no fort 
was safe, from him if it would 
catch fire. 

The town where these red- 
men dwelt was two score miles 



from Fort Du-quesne, and a 
band of brave white men, with 
John Arm -strong and Hugh 
Mer-cer at their head, set out 
from Win-ches-ter to put them 
to rout. 

At the end of a long march 
they came at night on the red- 
men's strong- hold, and took 
them off their guard. The red- 
men, led by the fierce chief Ja- 
cob, who chose to die ere he 
would yield, made a strongfight, 
but in the end most of them 
were killed, their huts were set 
on fire, and the brave strong- 
hold was a strong-hold no more. 

In the mean-time Wash-ing- 
ton had left Win-ches-ter and 
gone to Fort Cum-ber-land, on 
Will's Creek. Here he kept his 
men at work on new roads and 
old ones. Some were sent out 
as scouts. Brig-a-dier Gen-er-al 
Forbes, who was in charge of 
the whole force, was on his way 
from Phil-a-del-phi-a, but his 
march was a slow one as he was 
not in good health. The plan 
was when he came to move on 
the French fort. The work that 



42 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



was to have been done north of 
the fort, by Lord Lou-doun, 
hung fire. It wks felt that he 
was not the right man for the 
place, and so his lord-ship was 
sent back to Eng-land. 

Ma-jor Gen-er-al Ab-er-crom- 
bie then took charge of the 
King's troops at the north. 
These were to charge on Crown 
Point. Ma-jor Gen-er-al Am- 
herst with a large force of men 
was with the fleet of Ad-mi-ral 
Bos-caw-en, that set sail from 
Hal-i-fax the last of May. 
These were to lay siege to Lou- 
is-berg and the isle oY Cape 
Bre-ton, which is at the mouth 
of the Gulf of St. Law-rence. 
Forbes was to move on Fort 
Du-quesne, and was much too 
slow^ to suit Wash-ing-ton who 
was in haste to start. His men 
had worn out their old clothes 
and were in great need of new 
ones, which they could not get 
for some time. He liked the 
dress the red -men wore. It 
was light and cool, and, what 
had to be thought of most, it 
was cheap. Wash-ing-ton had 



some of his men put on this 
dress, and it took well, and has 
since been worn by those who 
roam the woods and plains of 
our great land. 

I will not tell you of all that 
took place near the great Lakes 
at this time, as I wish to keep 
your mind on George Wash- 
ing-ton. 

The schemes laid out by 
Gen-er-al Forbes did not please 
Wash-ing-ton, who urged a 
prompt march on the fort, while 
the roads were good. He wrote 
to Ma-jor Hal-ket, who had been 
with Brad-dock, and was now 
on Forbes' staff: "I find him 
fixed to lead you a new way to 
the 0-hi-o, through a road each 
inch of which must be cut when 
we have scarce time left to tread 
the old track, which is known 
by all to be the best path 
through the hills." He made 
it plain that if they went that 
new way all would be lost, and 
they would be way-laid by the 
red-skins and meet with all 
sorts of ills. 

But no heed was paid to his 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



43 



words, and the warm days came 
to an end. Six weeks were 
spent in hard work on the new 
road with a gain of less than 
three -score miles, when the 
whole force might have been 
in front of the French fort had 
they marched by the old road 
as Wash-ing-ton had urged. 

At a place known as Loy-al 
Han - nan, the troops were 
brought to a halt, as Forbes 
thought this was a good place 
to build a fort. .Some men in 
charge of Ma-jor Grant went 
forth as scouts. At dusk they 
drew near a fort, and set fire to 
a log house near its walls. This 
was a rash thing to do, as it let 
the French know just where 
they were. 

But not a gun was fired from 
the fort. This the King's troops 
took for a sign of fear, and were 
bold and proud, and quite sure 
that they would win the day. 
So Brad-dock had thought, and 
we know his fate. 

At length — when Forbes and 
his men were off their guard — 
the French made a dash from 



the fort, and poured their fire 
on the King's troops. On their 
right and left flanks fell a storm 
of shot from the red-skins who 
had hid back of trees, rocks, and 
shrubs. 

The King's troops were then 
brought up in line, and for a 
while stood firm and fought for 
their lives. But they were no 
match for the red-skins, whose 
fierce yells made the blood run 
chill. Ma-jor Lew-is fought 
hand to hand with a " brave" 
whom he laid dead at his feet. 
Red-skins came up at once to 
take the white-man's scalp, and 
there w^as but one way in which 
he could save his life. This 
w^as to give him-self up to the 
French, which both he and Ma- 
jor Grant were forced to do, as 
their troops had been put to 
rout with great loss. 

Wash-ing-ton w^on much 
praise for the way in which the 
Vir-gin-i-a troops had fought, 
and he was at once put in charge 
of a large force, w^ho were to 
lead the van, serve as scouts, 
and do their best to drive back 



44 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



the red-skins — work that called 
for the best skill and nerve. 

It was late in the fall of the 
year when the King's troops all 
met at Loy-al Han-nan, and so 
much had to be done to clear 
the roads, that snow would be 
on the ground ere they could 
reach the fort. But from those 
of the French that they had 
seized in the late fight, they 
found out that there were but 
few troops in the fort, that food 
was scarce, and the red-skins 
false to their trust. 

This lent hope to the King's 
troops, who made up their minds 
to push on. They took up their 
march at once, with no tents or 
stores, and but few large guns. 

Wash -ing- ton rode at the 
head. It was a sad march, for 
the ground was strewn with the 
bones of those who had fought 
with Grant and with Brad-dock, 
and been slain by the foe, or 
died of their wounds. 

At length the troops drew 
near the fort, and made their 
way up to it with great care, for 
they thought the French would 



be in wait for them, and that 
there would be a fierce fight 

But the French had had such 
bad luck in Can-a-da, that they 
had lost heart, and those in the 
fort were left to take care of 
them-selves. So when the Eng- 
lish were one day's march from 
the fort, the French stole out at 
night, got in-to boats, set the 
fort on fire, and went down the 
O-hi-o by the light of the flames. 

So the fort which had been 
the cause of so much blood- 
shed, fell at last with -out a 
blow, and on No-vem-ber 25, 
1758, Wash-ing-ton, with his 
van- guard, marched in and 
placed the Brit-ish flag on the 
wreck of the once proud strong- 
hold, the name of which was 
changed to Fort Pitt. 

The French gave up all claim 
to the O-hi-o from that time. 
The red-skins were quick to 
make friends with those who 
held sway, and there was peace 
with all the tribes twixt the 
O-hi-o and the Lakes. 

Wash-ing-ton had made up 
his mind to leave the field when 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



45 



this war came to an end, and 
in De-cem-ber of the same 
year he bade his troops good- 
bye. 

He had been with them for 



five years in a hard school, and 
the strain on his mind had been 
so great that he lost his health, 
and felt that he could war no 
more. 



CHAPTER VH. 



THE HOME OF WASH-ING-TON. 



In the year 1758, while Wash- 
ing-ton was with his troops at 
Win-ches-ter, he met and fell 
in love with Mrs. Mar-tha Cus- 
tis. Her home was known as 
the White House, and here she 
dwelt in fine style, for she had 
great wealth. She had a boy 
six years of age, and a girl of 
four. 

Such were her charms that 
men of wealth and rank sought 
foi- her hand, but Wash-ing-ton, 
so calm and grave, and with his 
way yet to make in the world, 
won her heart, and they were 
to be wed at the close of the 
war. 

She had heard of the brave 
deeds he had done, and was 



proud to be the wife of such a 
man, so on Jan-u-a-ry 6, 1759, 
the two were made one. 

In the course of a few months 
Wash-ing-ton went to live at 
Mount Ver-non, where he spent 
much of his time in the care of 
his own lands, and those of his 
wife. 

He had a seat with those who 
made laws for the State, and 
no man was thought more of 
than George Wash-ing-ton. 

Wash-ing-ton loved to be at 
Mount Ver-non, where he had 
spent a great part of his boy- 
hood, with his bro-ther, Law- 
rence, of whom he was so fond. 
The house stood on a knoll, and 
near it were wild woods and 



46 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



deep dells, haunts of the fox and 
the deer, and bright streams 
where fish could be found at 
all times. 

His chief sport was the chase, 
and, at the right time of the 
year, he would go out two or 
three times a week, with dogs 
and horns and trained steeds, in 
search of the sly fox who would 
lead him and his friends a fine 
run. 

Some times he would go out 
with his gun and shoot wild- 
ducks, great flocks of which 
might be found on the streams 
close at hand. Or he would 
scour the woods for the game 
with which they were filled, and 
which none but those who 
owned the place had a right to 
kill. 

A man who had a bad name 
and paid no heed to the laws 
that were made, was wont to 
make his way to the grounds 
near Mount Ver-non and shoot 
just what game he chose. More 
than once he had been told to 
leave and not come back, but 
he paid no more heed than if 



he had been deaf, and was sure 
to take his pick from the best 
kind of ducks. 

One day when Wash-ing-ton 
was out on horse-back he heard 
the sound of a gun down near 
the edge of the stream. He 
put spurs to his horse, dashed 
through bush and brake, and 
soon came up to the rogue who 
had just time to jump in his 
boat and push from shore. 
Then the bad man raised his 
gun, cocked it, and took aim at 
Wash-ing-ton, whom he would 
no doubt have shot down in 
cold-blood. 

But Wash-ing-ton rode • at 
once in-to the stream, and seized 
the prow of the boat, and drew 
it to shore. Then he sprang 
from his horse, wrenched the 
gun from the thief's hand, and 
laid on the lash in such a way 
that the rogue took to his heels 
when let loose, and came no 
more near Mount Ver-non. 

As I have told you, men of 
great wealth dwelt on the shores 
of the Po-to-mac, and kept house 
in fine style. They had a large 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



47 



force of slaves, and made great 
feasts for their friends. One of 
them used to come out in a rich 
barge to meet Wash-ing-ton. 
This barge was rowed by six 
black men in check shirts and 
black vel-vet caps. 

Wash-ing-ton had a coach 
and four, with black foot-men, 
for Mrs. Wash-ing-ton to use 
when she drove out; but he 
chose to go on horse -back. 
Some -times he and his wife 
went to An-na-po-lis, to a ball 
or feast of some sort, where 
Wash-ing-ton took part in the 
dance, and all the belles of the 
day were proud to dance with 
him, for he had a grand style 
that made him seem like no one 
else in the room. 

When storms kept him in the 
house, he would read, or spend 
the time at his desk with pen 
in hand. 

He was kind to his slaves, 
and took the best of care of 
them when they were sick, but 
was quick to see that they did 
not shirk their work. He knew, 
too, just the kind of work each 



one was fit for, and which he 
could do the best. 

Four of his slaves set out to 
hew and shape a large log. 
Wash-ing-ton kept his eye on 
them and thought they loafed 
too much. So he sat down, 
took' out his watch, and timed 
them : how long it took them 
to get their cross-cut saw and 
the rest of their tools ; how 
long to cut off the limbs from 
the tree they had laid low ; how 
long to hew and saw it ; what 
time they spent in talk ; and 
how much work they did while 
he sat there and took notes. In 
this way he found out just how 
much work four men could do 
in the course of a day — and take 
their ease. 

Wash-ing-ton was quick to 
lend a hand in time of need, and 
once when word was brought 
him that the dam had broke 
loose, and the mill would soon 
be swept off, he ran at the head 
of all his slaves and work-men, 
and toiled as hard as they in a 
fierce rain-storm, to check the 
force of the flood. 



48 



LIFE OF WASHINGTOX. 



The cares of home and state 
made such calls on his time and 
thoughts, that he could not be 
said to live quite at his ease, and 
he left his mark — a high one — 
on all that he did. 

His crops were of the best, 
and he sought to cheat no' one. 
The flour he sold from year to 
year was put up with so much 
care, and was of such a good 
kind and so true in weight that 
all that bore the brand of George 
Wash-ing-ton, J\doimt Ver-non, 
was held at a high rate in the 
West In-di-a ports. 

Quite a trade was kept up 
with Eu-rope, where all the 
goods had to be bought that 
were used in the house or on 
the farm. 

Twice a year Wash-ing-ton 
sent on a long list of such things 
as he had need of: ploughs, 
hoes, scythes, horse-goods, and 
clothes for all the house-hold. 
For these last he had to give 
size and height, name, and age, 
of those who were to wear them. 

In one of these lists Wash- 
ing-ton, who had need of a new 



suit of clothes, said he was six 
feet in height, quite thin, and 
had long limbs. He was then 
31 years old. 

You will see by what I have 
told you just how Wash-ing- 
ton spent much of his time for 
at least five years. They were 
five sweet years to him ; full of 
peace, and rest, and joy. He 
was fond of his home, and felt 
as much pride in Nel-lie and 
John Parke Cus-tis as if they 
had been his own boy and girl. 
Nel-lie was a fraJl child, and 
did not gain in strength, though 
she had the best of care. Her 
death took place June 19, 1773, 
when she was but 17 years of 



age. 



This was a sad blow to Wash- 
ing-ton, as well as to his wife, 
and then all their hopes were 
placed on the son, who bade fair 
to be a fine strong man. But 
he died in the year 1781, at the 
age of 28. 

While Wash-ing-ton dwelt 
in peace at Mount Ver-non, war 
was rife in the land, but as he 
had with-drawn from those who 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



49 



bore arms he took no part in it. 
It was called Pon-ti-ac's war, 
as it was led by a chief of that 
name, but the 0-hi-o tribes were 
with him, and the plot was 
deep laid. 

Large tracts of wood -land 
were laid waste ; homes were 
burnt, and those who dwelt in 
them robbed and slain ; and so 
sly and shrewd were the red- 
skins that it was some time ere 
the white men could put a stop 
to their deeds of blood. 

It was in 1760 that King 
George the Third made up his 
mind to tax the folks in A-mer- 
i-ca for all the goods they 
bought in Eng-land. The trade 
was large, and in this way the 
king could add much to his 
wealth. But the scheme did not 
work well. It was first tried in 
Bos-ton, and set all the folks 
there by the ears. They claimed 
that they had rights as well as 
the king. They had come to 
this land to be free, and free 
they would be. They would do 
with-out tea and such things, 
and dress as well as they could 



in clothes made out of home- 
made goods. 

The king next said that goods 
bought from Eng-land must 
bear the king's stamp, for which 
a sum was to be paid more than 
the cost of the goods. This was 
known as the Stamp Act. The 
folks in A-mer-i-ca were poor. 
They had not the means to pay 
this tax. The thought of it filled 
them with rage ; and for five 
years there was much talk of 
the wrong the king had done to 
those who dwelt in A-me-i-ca. 

On the first day of No-vem- 
ber, 1765, the Stamp Act was 
to go in-to force, and all New 
Eng-land was in arms. At 
Bos-ton bells were tolled; flags 
were hung at half-mast ; shops 
were shut, and bon-fires built. 

In New York, the Act — in 
clear print — was borne through 
the streets on a pole, on top of 
which was a death's head. 

A man named Col-den whose 
place it was to serve out the 
stamps had to flee to the fort, 
round which was placed a strong 
guard from a ship-of-war. The 



50 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



mob broke in-to his coach-house, 
drew out his coach, put in it a 
form — stuffed and dressed to 
look some-what Hke Col-den — 
and marched up to the Park 
where they hung it on a tree. 

At night they took the form 
down, put it in a coach, and bore 
it back to Bow -ling Green, 
where the whole thing — coach 
and all — was burnt right in 
range of the guns of the fort 
where the King's troops were. 

In March 1766, the king drew 
back the Stamp Act, which gave 
great joy to those who had the 
good of A-mer-i-ca at heart, 
and to none more than to George 
Wash-ing-ton. But he made 
it known that he felt it to be his 
right as their king to tax them 
as he chose, and this hurt the 
pride of those who wished to 
make their own laws, and be in 
bonds to no one. 

Wash-ing-ton — as did most 
of those who had Eng-lish 
blood in their veins — looked up- 
on that land as his home, and 
was loath to break the chain that 
bound him to it. But he did 



not think well of the Stamp Act, 
and saw what was sure to come 
to pass if the king pressed too 
hard on the A-mer-i-cans. 

On Sep-tem-ber 5, 1774, a 
band of true men from all the 
States met for the first time in 
Phil-a-del-phi-a, and Wash-ing- 
ton set out from Mount Ver-non 
on horse-back to take his seat 
with them. With him were 
Pat-rick Hen-ry and Ed-mund 
Pen-die-ton ; and as they rode 
side by side they talked of the 
land they loved, and of the 
hopes they had that all would 
be well. 

The band met with closed 
doors. Each man wore a grave 
face. Pat-rick Hen-ry made a 
strong speech at the close of 
which he said, "All A-mer-i-ca is 
thrown in-to one mass. Where 
are your land- marks ? * 

They are all thrown down." 

He said he did not call him- 
self by the name of the State in 
which he was born, but by the 
name of the land which gave 
him birth — then known as "the 
land of the free." 



i^.j'E OF WASHINGTON. 



51 



Wash-ing-ton was not a man 
of words, but of deeds. But 
what he said was of great weight 
as it came from a wise brain 
and a true heart. 

Pat-rick Hen-ry said there 
was no man in the whole band 
so great as George Wash-ing- 
ton. The band broke up in 
No-vem-ber, and Wash-ing-ton 
went back to Mount Ver-non. 
But not to the gay times and 
good cheer he once had known. 
George Fair-fax — who had been 
his friend from boy-hood — had 
gone to Eng-land to Hve, and 
Bel-voir took fire one night and 
was burnt to the ground. 

The stir in Bos-ton, and in 
the West where the red-skins 
were on the war-path, made the 
whole land ill at ease. Troops 
w^ere kept on drill, and the roll 
of the drum was heard in all 
the small towns. Men came to 
talk with Wash-ing-ton and to 
find out what he thought was 



the best thing to do, and the best 
way to drill or to arm troops. 

It was of no use to plead with 
the king. He had made up his 
mind and would not yield an 
inch. A large force of the best 
men in Vir-gin-i-a met at Rich- 
mond, March 20, 1775, and 
Wash-ing-ton was called on 
for some plan as to what their 
course should be. 

He told them that he thought 
there was but one thing to do. 
Pat-rick Hen-ry put it in-to 
words that rang through the 
land: "We must fight! I re- 
peat it. Sir, we must fight ! An 
ap-peal to arms, and the God 
of hosts, is all that is left us ! " 

All hearts were full of zeal ; 
and Wash-ing-ton wrote to his 
bro-ther, Au-gus-tine, that if 
there was need of it he would 
lead troops to war, and risk his 
life and all his wealth in the 
cause, which seemed to him a 
most just one. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



CHAPTER VIIL 



THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 



In the year 1775 war was rife 
in New Eng-land. The King's 
laws were felt to be more for 
slaves than for free-men, and 
all made up their minds to 
throw off the yoke. They could 
not bear the sight of the red- 
coats ; and the King's troops 
were just as fierce in their hate 
of our men. 

Ships-of-war brought a large 
force of troops to New Eng- 
land, led by men of rank and 
fame. They filled the streets of 
Bos-ton, and it was thought 
they might bring the A-mer-i- 
cans to terms, and not a drop of 
blood' be shed. But this was 
not to be. 

A large force of our men 
were in camp on the hills and 
fields near Bos-ton, the sight 
of whom might well cause the 
well-clad Brit-ish to smile. They 
had left their farms in great 
haste at the cry of "To arms!" 



had seized their guns, and come 
in the home-spun clothes it was 
their pride to wear. Those from 
Mas-sa-chu-setts were led by 
Gen-er-al Ar-te-mas Ward; 
those from New Hamp-shire by 
Col-o-nel John Stark ; those 
from Rhode Isl-and by Gen- 
er-al Na-than-i-el Greene ; and 
those from Con-nect-i-cut by 
Gen-er-al Is-ra-el Put-nam ; 
all brave and true men, and full 
of fight. 

But the troops had need to 
be well armed ; and all the guns 
and such things as there was 
need of in war times were in 
Bos-ton, where the red-coats 
were on guard. But though 
sharp eyes were on the watch, 
sly deeds were done by those 
who knew the ways in and 
out of each store-house. Carts 
went out of town heaped high 
with dirt in which guns and 
balls were hid ; and all sorts of 



LIFE OF WASHINGTOIM. 



53 



tricks were used to get such 
things past the red-coats. 

At length it came to the ears 
of Gen-er-al Gage, that some 
field guns were at Sa-lem, and 
he sent troops there to seize 
them. But when they reached 
Sa-lem they found no guns 
there. 

Then word came to Gen-er-al 
Gage that there was a large 
stock of arms and war-stores 
at Con -cord, which was less 
than a score of miles from 
Bos-ton. 

In the night of A-pril i8, the 
red-coats set out for Con-cord. 
Gen-er-al Gage had said that 
no one but the troops should 
leave the town, but the news 
was borne to Lex-ing-ton — a 
town on the road to Con-cord — 
by those who were as swift as 
the hare, and as sly as the fox. 

The folks there met in groups, 
with hearts on fire. Bells were 
rung and guns were fired. Men 
who heard these sounds ran as 
fast as they could to Lex-ing- 
ton, to hold the bridge, and keep 
back the foe. 



At five o'clock, on the morn 
of A-pril 19, the red-coats came 
in sight, and at once three-score 
and ten men stood out on the 
green near the wall to meet 
them. 

Ma-jor Pit-cairn who was at 
the head of the King's troops 
called out to these brave men to 
lay down their arms and leave 
the place. But they paid no 
heed to his words. Then he 
sprang from the ranks, shot off 
a small gun, swung his sword 
in air, and told his men to fire. 
The troops ran up, with loud 
cheers, and poured a storm of 
shot on our men, some of whom 
were killed. Then they pushed 
on to Con-cord, and did all the 
harm they could at that place : 
spiked guns, threw pounds and 
pounds of shot down the wells, 
and spoiled a large lot of flour 
and food that had been stored 
there for use in time of need. 

When the King's troops 
turned back to Lex-ing-ton, 
they were quite worn out with 
what they had done, and would 
have been cut down by our 



54 



LIFE OF WASNLYGTUN. 



men if Gage had not sent a 
force to their aid. 

For the blue-coats had flown 
to arms, and poured in-to Lex- 
ing-ton by all the roads that led 
led there -to. The red -coats 
might laugh at their clothes, and 
the way in which they tried to 
keep step, but they found out 
that they knew how to use guns, 
and that each man was a dead- 
shot. 

The fresh troops Gage sent 
up from Bos-ton had to form 
a square, so that the worn out 
men who had had a long march 
and hard work might have a 
chance to rest. Then they all 
set out to march back to Bos- 
ton, with two field guns in the 
rear to keep off the "flock of 
Yan-kees," who dogged their 
steps, and kept up a fire in front 
and rear, and from each stone- 
wall and hedge that lined the 
road. 

There was loss on both sides, 
but what hurt the King's troops 
the most was to be put to flight 
by such a lot of scare crows, as 
they thought our troops were. 



A close watch was kept on 
Bos-ton by our men, who were 
soon in such force that it would 
not have been safe for the red- 
coats to try to leave the town. 
The King's troops did not like 
to be shut in, in this way, and 
lost no chance to mock at and 
taunt those who kept them at 
bay. 

On the north side of Bos-ton 
lay a long strip of land, from 
the heights of which one could 
see the town and all the ships 
at or near the wharves. Put- 
nam thought it would be a good 
plan to seize these heights and 
place troops there ; but Ward 
and War-ner thought it was not 
safe to risk it. It might bring 
on a fierce fight and cause much 
blood to be shed. 

Put-nam had no fear of his 
own men. He knew how brave 
they were, and how w^ell they 
could fight back of a screen. 
"They have no fear of their 
heads," he said, " their chief 
thought is their legs. Shield 
them, and they'll fight on till 
doom's-day." 



I 




ATTACKING THE RED-COATS ON THEIR RETURN TO BOSTON.— P. 54-. 



** 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



55 



Two or three of those who 
had led troops in the French 
war, were of the same mind as 
Put-nam, and their words had 
weight. The chief man was 
Col-o-nel Pres-cott, who was 
just the style of man, in port 
and in dress, that a lot of raw 
troops would look up to. He 
wore a fine hat, a top-wig, and 
a blue coat faced and lapped up 
at the skirts. 

He it was whom Gen-er-al 
Ward chose to lead the troops 
which were to seize the heights, 
build the earth-works there, and 
guard them from the foe. There 
were 1200 in all, and they set 
out on the night of June 16, 
1775. Not a light w^as shown. 
Not a sound was heard, but the 
tramp — tramp — tramp of these 
men on their way to face death. 

A small neck of land joined 
Charles-town to the main-land, 
and as they drew near this the 
troops hushed their steps, and 
moved with great care. For 
on this the red-coats kept a close 
watch. Five of their ships-of- 
war stood so that their guns 



would sweep this neck of land, 

and earth-works were on Copp's 

, Hill, which faced Charles-town. 

On the blue-coats went, past 
the guards, past the guns, past 
the Neck, and up to the heights 
of Bunk-er's Hill. Here they 
were to make their stand, but it 
was found that Breed's Hill, 
which was half a mile off, was 
not quite so steep, and would 
give them more of a chance at 
the red-coats, while Bunk-er's 
Hill would shield them in the 
rear. 

Put-nam thought Breed's 
Hill was the right place and was 
in haste for the work to go on. 
There was no time to lose. So 
pick and spade were brought 
out, and the earth dug out so 
as to serve as a wall to screen 
them from the fire of the foe. 

The night was warm and still. 
Now and then Pres-cott would 
steal down to the edge of the 
stream, to see and hear if the 
red -coats had^ made a stir. 
There was not a sound save the 
cry of " All's well ! All's well ! " 
from the watch- man on guard 



56 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



in the town, and on the ships- 
of-war. 

All night the work on the 
heights went on. At dawn of 
day the men there were seen by 
the sea-men on the ships-of- 
war, and at once their guns were 
brought up and turned on the 
hill. Their shot did not harm 
the works, but one man who 
went out-side was killed, and 
this threw the rest in-to a great 
fright. They were not used to 
scenes of war, and the sight of 
a man shot down in their midst 
was more than their nerves could 
stand. 

Some took to their heels at 
once, and did not come back, 
and had Pres-cott not been a 
brave man him-self he could not 
have held his troops as he did. 
He stood up on top of the earth- 
w^orks in full view of the red- 
coats, and talked with his men, 
and his words of cheer put new 
strength in their hearts, so that 
they were in less dread of the 
balls that whizzed near them. 

The noise of the guns roused 
the red-coats in Bos-ton, and 



Gen-er-al Gage gazed at Breed's 
Hill like one in a dream. A fort 
full of men had sprung up in 
the night! How had it been 
done? What kind of men were 
these he had to meet? As he 
stood on Copp's Hill and looked 
through his field glass, he spied 
the tall form of Pres-cott, in his 
blue coat, on the wall of the fort. 

''Will he fight?" asked Gage, 
"Yes, 5/>," said one who stood 
near, and who knew Pres-cott. 
" He will fight to the last drop 
of blood ; but I can't say as 
much for his men." 

"We must seize the works!" 
cried Gage, and at once called 
up his chiefs for a talk, and to 
plan the best way to do this deed. 

The noise in the streets of 
Bos-ton, the roll of the drum, 
the sound of the trump that 
calls to war, the sharp click of 
hoofs, and the deep roll of 
wheels that bore the field guns, 
were heard on the heights, and 
let the troops there know that 
war was at hand. 

The men were worn out with 
their hard task, and their loss 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



57 



of sleep. They had not brought 
much food with them, and their 
thirst was great. The heat 
made them feel weak and dull. 
There was need of more men, 
and a lot of raw New Hamp-shire 
troops, led by Col-o-nel Stark 
came to their aid. In the mean 
time those on the height had to 
bear the fire of the guns from 
the ships and from Copp's Hill, 
which broke on them at ten 
o'clock. 

At noon the blue-coats saw 
more than a score of boats full 
of troops cross from Bos-ton in 
straight lines. The sun shone 
on their red-coats, and flashed 
from the tips of the guns they 
bore, and from- the brass field 
guns that stood' on the deck. It 
was a gay scene. They made 
their way to a point north of 
Breed's Hill, where Gen-er-al 
Howe, who led them, could see 
the full strength of the blue- 
coats. They had more troops 
than he thought, and he caught 
sight of fresh ones on their way 
to Breed's Hill. 

Howe at once sent to Gage 



for more troops, and more balls 
for the field guns, and as it 
would take some time for them 
to be sent round, the red-coats 
in the mean-time were served 
with food and drink. The 
" grog" was passed round in 
pails, and the men sat round on 
the grass, and ate and drank 
their fill, while the poor men on 
the heights looked down and 
longed to share their feast. 

But while the red-coats took 
their ease, the blue-coats had a 
chance to add to the strength 
of their fort, and to push out 
the breast -works to a point 
known as the Slough. 

Near this was a pass where 
the foe might turn the left-flank 
of the troops or seize Bunk- 
er's Hill. 

Put -nam chose one of his 
men, a Cap-tain Knowl-ton, to 
hold this pass with his Con- 
nect-i-cut troops. He at once 
set to work to build a sort of 
fort, back of which his men 
could fight with more ease than 
if they stood out in the field. 
Not a long way ofl" was a post- 



/ 



58 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



and-rail fence set in a low foot- 
wall of stone, and this fence ran 
down to the Mys-tic Riv-er. 
The posts and rails of a fence, 
near this, were torn up in haste, 
and set a few feet at the rear of 
it, and the space 'twixt the two 
was filled with new-mown hay 
brought from the fields near at 
hand. 

While Knowl - ton and his 
men were at work on this fence, 
Put-nam and his troops threw 
up the work on Bunk-er's Hill. 

In the mean time Stark had 
set out from Med-ford on a six 
mile march. He was a cool, 
calm man, and had been through 
the French war, of which I have 
told you. He led his men at a 
slow pace, so that they would 
be fresh and strong to take part 
in the fight. As they came up 
to the Neck, which they had to 
cross, and which was lined with 
guns on both sides, one of the 
aides urged him to let the men 
take a quick step. 

The old man shook his head, 
and said, " One fresh man in a 
fight is worth ten tired ones," 



and kept on at the same pace ; 
and did good work that day 
back of the post-and-rail screen. 

War-ren, who had been made 
a Ma-jor Gen-er-al, came to, 
serve in the ranks. Put-nam 
said he might lead the troops at 
the fence. He said he did not 
care to lead ; he was there to 
fight. "Where will the fire be 
the hot-test?" he asked. He 
was told that the fort on Breed's 
Hill was the point the foe sought 
to gain. " If we can hold that," 
said Put-nam, "the day is ours." 

War-ren at once made his 
way there, and the troops gave 
a round of cheers when he 
stepped in-to the fort. Pres- 
cott, who was not so high in 
rank, sought to have War-ren 
take charge of the troops. But 
he would not. " I have come 
to serve in the ranks," he said, 
"and shall be glad to learn from 
one so well-skilled as your-self " 

The red-coats thought to take 
the w^orks with ease, and win 
the day. Gen-er-al Pig-ot, with 
the left wing, was to mount 
the hill and seize the earth- 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



59 



works, while Gen-er-al Howe 
came up with the right wing to 
turn the left-flank of our men 
and stop all flight at the rear. 

Pig-ot and his men came up 
the height, and not a gun was 
fired by our troops till the red- 
coats were in range. Then, as 
they were all good marks -men 
each shot told, and some of the 
best men fell at the first fire. 
The foe fell back in haste, but 
were brought up once more by 
those who stood at their head 
with drawn swords. 

They were met by a fire more 
fierce than the first; and vexed 
by the guns that bore on their 
flank from the band of men in 
Charles-town. So much blood 
had been shed, and the men 
were in such a state of fright, 
that Pig-ot was forced to give 
the word to fall back. 

We will now see what sort of 
luck Gen-er-al Howe had. He 
led his troops up the bank of 
the stream, and thought to take 
the slight breast- work with ease, 
and so get in the rear of the fort 
But he did not know the ground, 



and could not bring his large 
guns through the swamp he met 
with. In the pause some of his 
men were hurt and some killed 
by the guns that were set by 
the post-and-rail fence. 

Plowe's men kept up a fire as 
they came on, but as they did 
not take good aim the balls flew 
o'er the heads of our troops, 
who had been told to hold their 
fire till the red-coats were quite 
near. 

Some few did not do as they 
were told, and Put-nam rode 
up and swore he would cut down 
the next man that fired ere he 
had the word to do so. When 
the red-coats were in the right 
range, such a storm of lead 
poured on them from guns in 
the hands of men who did not 
miss a mark that the place was 
like a field of blood. 

Such a host were slain that 
the red-coats lost heart, and fell 
back in great haste. Some of 
them ran back as far as the 
boats, and got on board of them 
that they might be safe from 
the fire of the marks-men. 



6o 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



Once more the red -coats 
charged the fort, which it was 
their aim to get in-to their own 
hands. In the mean time the 
shehs from Copp's Hill and the 
ships-of-war had set Charles- 
town on fire. The town was 
built of wood, and was soon 
a mass of flames. The dense 
smoke put out the light of the 
sun. On all sides was heard 
the din of wan The big guns 
kept up their great roar. Bomb- 
shells burst in the air. The 
sharp hiss of the small balls, 
and the shouts and yells of the 
men made a scene to strike the 
heart with awe. 

Our men stood firm, and with 
eyes fixed on the foe, who, as 
soon as they were close at hand, 
were shot down by the guns 
whose aim was so sure. 

The red-coats stood the first 
shock, and then kept on, but 
were met by such a stream of 
fire that they were soon brought 
to a halt. In vain did the men 
who led them urge them on with 
drawn swords. Whole ranks 
were mowed down. Some of 



Gen-er-al Howe's staff were 
slain, and the troops, wild with 
fear, broke ranks and fled down 
the hill. 

For a third time Gen-er-al 
Howe brought up his men, some 
of whom threw off their knap- 
sacks and some their coats that 
they might not be weighed 
down by them. 

The red-coats made a feint as 
if they would take the fort at 
the fence, and did much harm 
there to our men. While some 
of his troops were at work at 
that point, Howe brought the 
rest of his force to the front and 
rear of the main fort, which was 
then stormed on three sides at 
once. 

Pres-cott told some of his 
men to stand at the back part 
of the fort and fire at the red- 
coats that showed them-selves 
on the wall. Soon one leaped 
up and cried out **The day is 
ours ! " and was shot down at 
once, as were all those who had 
joined him. 

But our men had fired their 
last round, and there was nought 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



6i 



for them to do but to meet the 
foe in a hand-to-hand fight 
With stones and the butt-ends 
of their guns they sought to 
drive back the red-coats, but the 
tide was too strong for them, 
and they had to give way. 

War-ren, who had done brave 
work that day, was the last to 
leave the fort. He scarce had 
done so ere he was struck by a 
ball and fell dead on the spot. 

As our troops fled by way of 
Bunk-er Hill, Put-nam ran to 
the rear and cried, " Halt! make 



a stand here ! We can check 
them yet! In God's name form, 
and give them one shot more !" 

But the troops could not be 
brought to a stand, and the red- 
coats won the day, but with the 
loss of more than half of their 
men. And it hurt their pride to 
think that it had cost them so 
dear to take these earth-w^orks 
that had been. thrown up in one 
night by a mere hand-ful of 
raw troops. 

Their loss was 1,054. 

Our loss was 450. 



CHAPTER IX. 



C O M AI A N D E R - I X - C H I E F . 



The deeds done ere this by 
the King's troops had made a 
great stir through-out the land. 
The chief men of each State met 
in Phil-a-del-phi-a, and sought 
out ways and means to help 
those who were in arms, as foes 
of King George, and a large 
force of men, from Ma-ry-land, 
Penn-syl-va-ni-a, and Vir-gin- 



i-a, were soon on hand to march 
and join the troops near Bos-ton. 
But who was to lead them ? 
The choice at once fell on George 
Wash-ing-ton, but he held back. 
He thought that Mas-sa-chu- 
sett's troops might not care to 
be led by a man from the south ; 
and, too, Gen-er-al Ward, who 
was then at their head had the 



62 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



first right, for Wash-ing-ton's 
rank was not so high as his. 

There was much talk on this 
score, and in the midst of it a 
Mas -sa-chu- setts man, John 
Ad-ams, rose and said that the 
man he thought fit to lead our 
troops was in that room, and he 
came from Vir-gin-i-a. 

All knew whom he meant, 
and as Wash-ing-ton heard his 
own name he rose from his seat 
and left the room. 

Then votes were cast, and all 
were for Wash-ing-ton, and he 
felt that he could not say No 
to such a call. He spoke his 
thanks in a few words, and said 
that he would do the best that 
he could, and serve with-out 
pay. He set out from Phil-a- 
del-phi-a June 21, 1775. With 
him were Gen-er-al Lee and 
Gen-er-al Schuy-ler, and a troop 
of light-horse, which went all 
the way to New York. 

As soon as it was known that 
Wash-ing-ton was on the road, 
crowds ran out to meet him, 
and to show their pride in him. 

When he reached New York 



he heard of the fight at Bunk- 
er Hill, and made haste to join 
the troops in their camp at Cam- 
bridge. He reached there Ju-ly 
2. The next day all the troops 
were drawn out in line, and 
Wash-ing-ton rode out at the 
head of his staff till he came 
to a large elm tree. Here he 
wheeled his horse, and drew 
his sword and took charge of 
all our troops as their Com- 
mand-er-in-chief. 

He found much to do, and 
much to bear from his own men 
as well as from the red-coats. 
It came to his ears that our men 
who fell in-to the hands of the 
red-coats at Bunk-er's Hill, were 
not well used, and he wrote at 
once to Gage and asked him to 
be less harsh. Gage, who had 
fought by his side in 1753, when 
both were young men, wrote 
back that he thought he should 
have praise and not blame, since 
he had saved the lives of those 
who were doomed to be hung. 

W^ash-ing-ton at first thought 
he would do as he was done by, 
but his heart failed him, and 




WASHINGTON CHOSEN FOR COM IVI AN DER-I N-CH I EF.-P. 62. 



^ 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



63 



those of the red-coats that were 
in the hands of our troops were 
set free, if they gave their word 
they would not fight for King 
George. 

By such acts Wash-ing-ton 
sought to show that *'A-mer-i- 
cans are as mer-ci-ful as they 
are brave." 

The camps in which Wash- 
ing-ton found his troops" were 
as odd as the men them-selves. 
Some of the tents were made 
of boards, some of sail-cloth, or 
bits of both, while here and 
there were those made of stone 
and turf, brick and brush-wood. 
Some were thrown up in haste 
and bore no marks of care, 
while a few were wrought with 
wreaths and twigs, and spoke 
well for the taste of those who 
made them. 

The best camp of all was that 
of the Rhode Is-land men in 
charge of Gen-er-al Na-than- 
i-el Greene. Here were found 
as good tents as the red-coats 
had, and the men were well- 
drilled and well-dressed. Greene 
was brought up on a farm. His 



fa-ther was a black-smith, and 
at times his son worked with 
the plough, or took his place at 
the forge. 

At the first note of war, Greene 
left the farm and in the month 
of May, 1775, was in charge of 
all the troops of his own small 
state. He went to Bos-ton, and 
took notes while there of all 
that the red-coats did, and in 
this way learned much that he 
could put to good use. His 
troops had fought at Bunk-er 
Hill, and there were none in 
the whole force that bore them- 
selves so well, or made so fine 
a show. 

Greene was six feet tall, and 
not quite two score years of age. 
He was strong and well built, 
and his frank way won the 
heart of Wash-ing-ton, and the 
two were warm friends from 
that time. 

Wash-ing-ton now set to work 
to add strength to the weak parts 
of his line, and to throw up 
fresh works round the main 
forts. All the live stock had to 
be kept off the coast so that 



64 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



they would not fall in-to the 
hands of the foe. 

He sought to draw the red- 
coats out of Bos-ton, but they 
would not stir. When Wash- 
ing-ton took charge of the 
troops, he thought that he could 
go back to his home when the 
cold days came on, and spend 
some time there with his wife. 

But there was no chance for 
him to leave, so he wrote to 
Mrs. Wash-ing-ton to join him 
in the camp. She came and 
staid with him till the next 
spring; and this was her course 
all through the war. 

She came in her own coach 
and four, with her son and his 
wife. The black foot-men were 
drest in red and white, and the 
whole turn-out was in the style 
in use in Vir-gin-i-a at that day. 

Wash-ing-ton had his rooms 
in the Crai-gie House, in Cam- 
bridge, and here Mrs. Wash- 
ing-ton took charge and gave 
the place more of a home- 
like air. 

At that time the camp of Cam- 
bridge was filled with all sorts 



of troops. Some had spent the 
most of their lives in boats, 
some were brought up on farms, 
some came from the woods, and 
each group wore the dress that 
pleased them best, and laughed 
at those who were not drest 
the same. 

This made sport for some time 
and jokes flew thick and fast. 

One day some men came in- 
to camp drest in an odd garb, 
such as was worn to hunt in. 
The suit was made of deer-skin, 
and the long shirt had a deep 
fringe all round. This dress 
was the cause of much mirth to 
men who came from the sea- 
shore, and were used to short 
coats, and rough plain clothes. 

There was snow on the 
ground, and when the jokes 
gave out, snow-balls took their 
place, for a war of words is quite 
sure to end in blows. Men came 
up to the aid of both sides. 
Fists were used, and all took 
part in the hand-to-hand fight, 
and there was a great stir in 
the camp. 

While the fight was at its 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



65 



height Wash-ing-ton rode up. 
None of his aides were with 
him. He threw the reins of his 
own horse in-to the hands of 
the black-man who rode near, 
sprang from his seat, and rushed • 
in-to the thick of the fray. Then 
he seized two of the tall stout 
hunts-men by the throat, and 
talked to them and- shook them 
while he held them at arm's 
length. 

This put an end to the brawl 
at once, and the rest of the 
crowd slunk off in haste, and left 
but three men on the ground : 
Wash-ing-ton, and the two he 
held in his grasp. 

As the cold days and nights 
came on the men grew home- 
sick, and longed to be by their 
own fire -sides. It was right 
that some of them should go, 
for they had served out their 
time, and this made the rest lone- 
some and sad. Songs would 
not cheer them, and they paid 
no heed to the words of those 
who sought to rouse them from 
these depths of woe. 

Wash-ing-ton was full of 



fears, which were shared by all 
those who were near him in 
rank, yet he did not lose hope. 
Gen-er-al Greene wrote, "They 
seem to be so sick of this way 
of life, and so home-sick, that I 
fear a large part of our best 
troops will soon go home." Still 
his heart did not lose hope. 
All would come right in time ; 
and his words of cheer were a 
great help to Wash-ing-ton at 
this time. 

The year 1775 had been a 
dark one for our land, and there 
was no ray of hope to light the 
dawn of 1776. There were but 
10,000 troops to take the field. 
There was a lack of arms, a lack 
of clothes, and a lack of food, 
and these things made camp-life 
hard to bear, and were a great 
grief to the heart of the chief 
He could not sleep. Had the 
foe known of their plight, they 
would have borne down on them 
and swept them out of sight. 
But God took care of them. 

In the first month of the year 
there was a stir on the Bos-ton 
wharves. A large fleet of boats 



66 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



lay in the stream, on board of 
which the red-coats swarmed, 
and there were two sloops-of- 
war filled with guns and war- 
like stores. 

All were in charge of Gen- 
er-al Howe, and Wash-ing-ton 
guessed what his plans were, 
and felt that the time had come 
for him to strive to wrest Bos- 
ton from the King's troops. 

The out-look was bright. 
More troops had come to his 
aid, and he made up his mind 
to place part of his force on 
Dor-ches-ter Heights, and, if he 
could, draw out the foe to fight 
at that place. At a sign, the 
troops on the Heights and at 
Nook's Hill were to fire at the 
same time, and rake the town 
with balls and bomb-shells. At 
the same time boats full of 
troops were to start from the 
mouth of Charles Riv-er, and 
act in the rear of the red-coats. 
It was thought that these moves 
on the part of our troops would 
bring on such a fight as they 
had had on Breed's Hill. 

On the night of March 4, 



our men made their way to the 
Heights, and at dawn of the 
next day strong forts loomed 
up, and seemed as if they must 
have been brought there at the 
touch of a wand. 

Howe gazed on them and 
said, "The reb-els have done 
more work in one night than 
my whole ar-my would have 
done in a month." 

He must drive them from 
the Heights, or leave Bos-ton. 
While pride urged him on, fear 
held him back, for he knew 
that his loss would be great. 
But he must make a move of 
some sort, so he made up his 
mind to send boats out that 
night with a force of troops in 
charge of Lord Per-cy. But a 
storm came up from the east; 
the surf beat high on the shore 
where the boats would have to 
land ; and the scheme was put 
off till the next day. But it 
stormed just as hard the next 
day ; the rain came down in 
sheets ; and the boats staid 
where they were. 

In the mean time our men 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



67 



kept at work on the hills on the 
north side and south side, and 
when the storm ceased Gen- 
er-al Howe saw that the forts 
were now so strong there would 
be no chance to take them. 

Nor was it safe for him to 
stay in Bos-ton. Yet the Ad- 
mi-ral said that if Howe's troops 
did not seize the Heights, the 
ships -of- war should not stay 
near Bos-ton ; so his lord-ship 
would have to leave with what 
grace he could, much as it might 
wound his pride. 

When the word went forth 
that the troops were to leave, 
strange sights were seen in Bos- 
ton town and bay. For some 
days the red-coats went this way 
and that in great haste. More 
than three-score-and-ten boats 
were cast loose for sea, with at 
least 12,000 men on board of 
them. While this stir took 
place not a shot was sent from 
the Heights, and it was well that 
this was so, as the red-coats 
had laid plans to set the town 
in a blaze if our troops fired 
one gun. 



The red-coats /eft Bos-ton 
March 17, and our troops, in 
charge of ** Old Put" — as the 
brave Put -nam was called — 
marched in-to town in fine style. 

For some days the fleet lay 
off the coast of Rhode Isl-and, 
and it was feared for a-while 
that they meant to strike a blow 
and win back what they had 
lost. But no such thing took 
place, and ere long the fleet 
sailed out of sight. 

" Where they are bound," 
wrote Wash-ing-ton, "and 
where they next will pitch their 
tents, I know not." 

He thought they were on 
their way to New York, but 
such was not the case. They 
had steered for Hal-i-fax, to 
wait there for more troops, and 
for the large fleet that was to 
come from Eng-land. 

A vote of thanks and a large 
gold coin with his face on one 
side of it, were sent to Wash-ing- 
ton by the chief men of the land, 
as part of his due for what he 
had so far done to save A-mer- 
i-ca from King George's rule. 



68 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



Wash-ing-ton, who thought 
the next move of the red-coats 
would be on New York, set out 
for that place, and reached there 
A-pril 13. He went to work at 
once to build forts, and to send 
out troops, and to make the 
place as strong as it ought to 
be. He did not know the plans 
of the foe, nor from what point 
they would hurl the bolts of war. 

All was guess-w^ork, but still 
in the midst of doubt it would 
not do to be slack. 

The town was put in charge 
of the troops, and the rules w^ere 
quite strict. Those who went 
in or out had to give the pass- 
word. "We all live here, shut 
up like nuns," wrote one who 
was fond of a gay life, " There's 
no one in town that we can go 
to see, and none to come and 
see us." 

Good times in New York 
were at an end. Our troops 
had been forced to leave Can- 
a-da, and it was known that the 
red-coats would push their way 
to New York. Forts were built 
on high banks up the Hud-son, 



and on the isles at its mouth, 
and all done that could be done 
to check them in their march. 

In the mean time it had been 
thought a good plan to set a 
day in which it might be shown 
through-out the land that A-mer- 
i-ca was, and, of a right, ought 
to be, a free land. So in Ju-ly 
an Act was drawn up and signed 
by the wise men who met in 
Phil-a-del-phi-a to frame the 
laws for the new States, and 
there was great joy, for it was 
a great day. 

Bells w^ere rung. Shouts and 
cheers rent the air. Fires blazed, 
and hearts burned, and men 
knelt to pray, and give thanks 
to God. 

John Ad-ams said the Fourth 
of Ju-ly ought to be kept up 
with great pomp through-out 
A-mer-i-ca, — "with shows, 
games, sports, guns, bells, and 
bon-fires" — till the end of time. 

The news did not reach New 
York till Ju-ly 9, and at six 
o'clock that night Wash-ing-ton 
read the Act to his troops. 

New York was wild with joy, 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



69 



and felt that more must be 
done than just to ring bells 
and light fires. 

In Bow-ling Green, in front 
of the fort, there stood a cast of 
George Third, made of lead. 
This a mob of men pulled down 
and broke up, that the lead 
might be run in-to- small shot 
and be used in the cause for 
which they fought. 

This did not please Wash- 
ing-ton, and he told his troops 
that they must not take part in 
such deeds. 

The joy did not last long, | 
for on Ju-ly 12, the ships-of- 
war in the bay sent out a broad- 
side, and it was thought they 
would at once fire the town. 
Crowds were on the streets. 
The troops flocked to their 
posts. Fear was in each heart, 
and New York was in a great 
stir. But two ships — the Phoe- 
nix and the Rose — left the fleet 
and shaped their course up the 
Hud-son. 

Then the guns were still, and 
fear died out for a-while. That 
night there was a fresh scare. 



Guns boomed and clouds of 
smoke were seen near the ships- 
of-war down the bay. 

Men on the look-out told that 
a ship-of-the-line had come in 
from sea, and each man-of-war 
gave her a round of guns as 
she passed by. At her fore-top 
mast-head she bore the flag of 
St. George. No need to tell 
more. ''Lord Howe is come! 
Lord Howe is come ! " was the 
cry that went from mouth to 
mouth, and the word soon flew"- 
through the town, and all felt 
that the hour of doom was 
close at hand. 

Lord Howe sought peace, 
and not blood-shed, and hoped, 
by the terms he would make, to 
bring not a few hearts back to 
their King. But he came too 
late. 

The King's troops did not 
think much of the rank that was 
borne by our men, who, they 
felt, had no right to put on the 
airs they did, and call them- 
selves grand names. 

In a few days Lord Howe 
sent one of his men on shore 



70 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



with a flag of truce, to seek 
speech with Wash -ing- ton. 
The man's name was Brown. 
His boat was met half-way by 
a barge which had on board one 
of our troops, named Reed, to 
whom Brown said he had a note 
for Mis-ter Wash-in g-ton. 

Reed said that he knew no 
man of that name. 

Brown held out to him the 
note he had in his hand, which 
bore on its face : George Wash- 
ing-ton, Esq. 

Reed said that he could not 
take the note. He knew what 
was due to his chief. So there 
was naught for Brown to do 
but to take to his oars. He had 
not gone far when he came back 
to ask "What style should be 
used to please Gen — (here he 
caught him-self and said) Mis- 
ter Wash-ing-ton. Reed told 
him that W^ash-ing-ton's rank 
was well known, and Lord Howe 
could be at no loss as to the 
right style. 



In a day or two an aide-de- 
camp came with a flag from 
Lord Howe, and asked if Col- 
o-nel Pat-ter-son might have 
speech with Gen-er-al Wash- 
ing-ton. Reed, who met the 
aide was prompt to grant this, 
and pledged him-self that no 
harm should come to him who 
came in the King's name. 

So the next day Pat-ter-son 
came, and when he stood face 
to face with Wash-ing-ton, 
bowed and said ''Yottr Ex-cel- 
len-cyy Wash-ing-ton met 
him with much form and state. 
He was not a vain man, but was 
proud of the rank he held, and 
thought that no man — were he 
a king — had a right to look 
down on A-mer-i-ca, or show 
the least slight to her Com- 
mand-er-in-chief. 

When he came to hear the 

terms on which Lord Howe 

sought to make peace, he found 

they were not such as he could 

I take, so the wai went on. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



"i 



CHAPTER X. 



IN AND NEAR NEW YORK. 



The red-coats had a camp 
on Stat-en Isl-and, and for the 
next month or so ships-of-war 
came that far up the bay, and 
brought with them a large force 
of troops. North-east of them 
was the long stretch of land 
known as Long Isl-and, where 
they could land their troops 
with ease, and make their way 
to New York. 

Wash-ing-ton knew that he 
could not keep them back, but 
he meant to vex them all he 
could. Gen-er-al Greene was 
placed with a large force on 
Brook -lyn Heights, to guard 
the shore, and troops were sent 
a mile back to throw up earth- 
works to check the march of the 
foe if they should try to come 
up on the land side. 

At mid-night of Au-gust 21, 
a spy brought word that the 
King's troops were on the move, 
and would soon show their 



strength, and **put all to the 
sword." 

The next day the sound of 
great guns was heard, and. a 
cloud of smoke was seen to rise 
from the groves on the south 
side of Long Isl-and. Word 
soon came to New York that the 
King's troops were at Graves- 
end, and that our troops had 
fled and set fire to the stacks of 
wheat to keep them out of the 
hands of the foe. 

Wash-ing-ton at once sent 
off a large force to check the 
foe at Brook-lyn, and to lend 
aid to those in the fort on the 
Heights. He told them to be 
cool, but firm ; not to fire when 
the foe were a long way off, 
but to wait till they were so 
near that each shot would tell. 
And if one of them should 
skulk, or lie down, or leave his 
place in the ranks, he was to be 
shot down at once. 



72 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



Sir Hen-ry Clin-ton led the 
King's troops, and Lord Corn- 
wal-lis had charge of the field- 
guns. Corn-wal-lis made haste 
to seize a pass that ran through 
the hills, but found Col-o-nel 
Hand there with a fine lot of 
marks-men, and so made a halt 
at Flat-bush. 

This was so near New York 
that great fright spread through 
the town. Those who had the 
means left the place. There 
was good cause for fear, as it 
had been told that if our troops 
had to leave New York it would 
at once be set on fire. This was 
false, but they did not know it. 
Their hearts were full of dread. 

Gen-er-al Put-nam was sent 
to take the place of Gen-er-al 
Greene who was sick in bed. 
The brave man was glad when 
he had leave to go, for he did 
not want to be kept in New 
York when there was a chance 
to fight for the land he loved. 

It was nine o'clock on the 
night of Oc-to-ber 26, that Sir 
Hen-ry Clin-ton set out with 
his van- guard, on his march 



from Flat-bush. Lord Corn- 
wal-lis brought up the rear- 
guard with all the large guns, 
and the large force of troops 
led by Gen-er-al Howe. 

Not a drum w^as heard, nor 
the sound of a trump as they 
took their course through by- 
roads and on cause-ways till 
they came near the pass through 
the Bed-ford Hills where they 
made a halt. 

No guard had been put on 
the road or the pass by Gen- 
er-al Greene, who must have 
thought it too far out of the 
way to need such care. 

Clin-ton was quick to see 
this, and at the first break of 
day his troops were on the 
Heights, and with-in three miles 
of Bed-ford. 

In the mean-time scouts had 
brought word to our lines that 
the foe were in force on the 
right, and Put-nam at once 
sent out troops to hold them in 
check. 

At day-light small fights took 
place here and there. A brisk 
fire was kept up at Flat-bush. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



n 



Now was heard the big boom 
of a large field-piece. Then a 
ship-of-war would send forth a 
broad-side on the fort at Red 
Hook. Wash-ing-ton was still 
in doubt if this was part of the 
main fight in which New York 
was to share. Five ships of the 
line tried to beat up the bay, 
but were kept back by a strong 
head wind. As the day wore 
on, and there were no signs that 
the red -coats meant to strike 
New York, Wash-ing-ton went 
to Brook-lyn in his barge, and 
rode with all speed to the 
Heights. He was just in time 
to see the fight in the woods, 
which he could do naught to 
stay. 

He stood on a hill, and 
through his large spy -glass 
had a view of the whole field. 
He saw his men cut their way 
through a host of foes. He 
saw them caught in traps, and 
hemmed in so that they were 
'twixt two fires. 

The whole pass was a scene 
of blood, and through it rang 
the clash of arms, the tramp of 



steeds, the storm of shot, and 
the cries of men who fought 
for their lives. On this side and 
that, our troops were swept 
down or put to rout by a force 
they had not strength to meet. 
Wash-ing-ton wrung his hands 
at the sight. *' Good God ! " he 
cried, "what brave men I must 
this day lose !" 

The red -coats went in -to 
camp that night in front of our 
lines, but out of reach of the 
guns of the fort. 

Our loss was 3,000. 

Theirs less than 400. 

The next day New York Bay 
and the small isles were wrap- 
ped in a dense fog, from which 
New York was quite free. Here 
was a chance for the troops to 
leave the works on the Heights, 
and make their way to New 
York. 

Fresh troops were sent down 
from Fort Wash-ing-ton and 
King's Bridge, and Wash-ing- 
ton felt that no time should be 
lost. His fear was that the 
King's ships would come up the 
bay at the turn of the tide, sail 



74 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



up the East Riv-er and catch 
in a trap all our troops that 
were on Long Isl-and. 

It was late at night when the 
troops stole out from the breast 
works. In the dead of night a 
big gun went off with a great 
roar, that gave a shock to the 
nerves of those who were in 
dread that the least sound might 
warn the foe of their flight to 
the New York side. 

But no harm came of it, the 
fog shut out the view, and by 
day-break our troops had all 
left the fort and were safe on 
the New York side. Wash-in g- 
ton, who had not slept for two 
days and nights, and had spent 
the most of the time on horse- 
back, would not step in-to the 
boat till he saw that all his 
troops were on board. 

The fog rose as the rear boats 
Avere in mid-stream, and when 
the red-coats climbed the crest 
of the earth-works they found 
not a sign of life there, and not 
a thing they could use. Our 
men had made a clean sweep, 
and were proud of the way in 



which they stole a march on 
the red-coats. 

Still, New York was not safe; 
and Wash -ing- ton sought in 
all ways to find out the plans of 
the foe. Ships-of-war went up 
the Sound, and up the Hud-son, 
and guns were fired on the forts 
that lay on each side of the 
town. But he knew that if the 
red-coats took New York they 
would soon be made to give it 
up, and so he made up his mind 
that his best course was to with- 
draw his troops, to Har-lem 
Heights. This was done, wdth 
the loss of a few men who had 
a fight with some red-coats on 
the way, and there he staid a 
few days, and spent much time 
on horse-back. 

He took note of the land, and 
chose sites for forts, and breast 
works, and on Oc-to-ber 23, took 
his stand at White Plains, where 
a strong fort was built. 

Soon the din of war was 
heard. The guns from Fort 
Wash-ing-ton and Fort Lee 
poured their fire on the men-of- 
war, but could not keep them 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



75 



back, and the red -coats still 
gave chase to our troops. Fort 
Wash -ing- ton fell in-to the 
hands of the foe in spite of a 
strong fight made to hold it. 

One day Wash-ing-ton went 
out with some of his staff to 
look at a height at the north 
where it was thought he might 
make a stand, and leave the 
camp where he then was. 

One of them said, "There is 
the ground where we ought 
to be." 

"Let us go then and view 
it," said Wash-ing-ton. 

They were on their way to the 
place, when a horse-man rode 
up in haste and cried out, " The 
red-coats are in camp. Sir!" 

"Then," said Wash-ing-ton, 
"we have some-thing else to do 
than this," and at once put spurs 
to his horse and set off for the 
camp at full speed. 

When he reached there he 
found all his troops drawn up 
to meet the foe that was close 
at hand. In his calm way he 
turned to those who had been 
out with him on the hills, and 



said " Go back to your posts, 
and do the best you can." 

A short, sharp fight took 
place, in which our troops made 
a brave stand, but the red-coats 
were too strong for them, and 
drove them back to the camp, 
and seized the hill on which 
they had stood. 

That night the troops of 
Wash-ing-ton and Howe lay 
not far a-part. Wash-ing-ton 
kept his men at work, and forts 
were built, and earth -works 
thrown up. These works were 
made of the stalks of corn, or 
maize, which the men took from 
a field near at hand. The roots 
of the stalks, with the earth on 
them, were placed on the face 
of the works, in the same way 
that sods of grass, and logs of 
wood were used. The tops 
were turned in, and loose earth 
thrown on them so that they 
were held in place, and made a 
good shield from the fire of 
small-arms. 

The next day, when Howe 
saw how much had been done 
by our troops to add to their 



76 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



Strength, he made a change in 
his plans. His own men were 
in a sad phght, and not fit to 
cope with the well-fed troops 
that kept them at bay. The 
nights w^ere cold, the Fall rains 
set in, and not a few of the red- 
coats were ill. Their chiefs 
knew how to fight in straight 
lines, but were not so shrewd 
and so quick to make use of 
what lay at hand as our chiefs 
were. So he broke up his camp, 
and in a few days the whole 
force of red-coats fell back from 
White Plains. 

But the strife was kept up at 
the North, and the foes were at 
work on sea and on land from 
New^ York to Al-ba-ny. Our 
troops met with ill-luck, and 
Wash-in g- ton w^as filled with 
grief. 

Fort Wash -ing- ton was in 
the hands of the foe ; Fort Lee 
w^as of no use ; and the next 
move of the red-coats was to 
cross the Hud -son, north of 
Fort Lee, and make their way 
through New Jer-sey. By that 
means they could shut in all our 



troops 'twixt the Hud-son and 
the Hack-en-sack. 

Wash-ing-ton at once sent 
off his men to save the bridge 
at Hack-en-sack. No time was 
to be lost. They left the camp 
with all haste, but ere they 
could reach the Hack-en-sack 
the van- guard of the foe was 
close at their heels. It was 
thought that a fight would take 
place, but Corn-wal-lis turned 
back and some of his troops 
slept that night in the tents that 
our men had left. 

These were dark days. Wash- 
ing-ton led his troops through 
New Jer-sey, hard pressed by 
Corn-wal-lis, whose van-guard 
came in -to New -ark just as 
Wash-ing-ton's rear-guard had 
left it. His whole camp were 
in flight. He staid a few days 
at New Bruns-wick, in hopes 
that fresh troops w^ould be sent 
to his aid, but none came, 
though his needs were so great. 
The men who, as he thought, 
would seize their guns and join 
his ranks, fled from their homes 
and sought a safe place as soon 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



17 



as they heard that the red-coats 
were near. 

On De-cem-ber 2, Wash-ing- 
ton was at Tren-ton, where he 
made but a brief halt. Then 
he crossed the Del-a-ware, and 
left New Jer-sey in the hands 
of the foe. If he and his men 
once got to Phil-a-del-phi-a, 
they would find troops there 
with whose aid they might hope 
to turn back the red-coats so 
close on their track. 

Gen-er-al Lee, who was at the 
heels of the foe, was at Mor- 
ris-town, De-cem-ber 11, where 
his troops had been forced to 
halt for two days for want of 
shoes. He was a man who loved 
his ease, and to lie late in bed. 

One day as he sat at a desk 
with pen in hand, one of his aides 
named Wil-kin-son, who was 
with him, looked down the lane 
that led from the house to the 
main road and saw a band of 
red-coats on horse-back. 

He cried out to Lee " Here 
are the red-coats ! " 

"Where?" said Lee. 

"Round the house!" 



" Where is the guard ?" said 
Lee with an oath. "Where is the 
guard? Why don't they fire?" 

The guards had not thought 
it worth while to keep watch, 
when their chief was so much 
at his ease, so they had stacked 
their arms and sat down on the 
south side of a house to sun 
them-selves. As the horse-men 
came up they gave chase to the 
guards who fled for their lives, 
and left Lee and his aide to do 
the best that they could. 

The red-coats drew near the 
house where Lee was, and swore 
that they would set fire to it 
if the Gen-er-al showed fight. 
So he was forced to yield, and 
was brought out in great haste — 
for they wished to make sure ot 
their prize — and placed on Wil- 
kin-son's horse which stood at 
the door. He was but hall 
drest, had no hat on his head, 
and wore low shoes, and a loose 
rough coat. In this style he 
had to ride to New Bruns-wick, 
where the King's troops at sight 
of him set off their bie euns. 
for their joy was great. 



'£5 fc' 



78 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



The loss of Lee was thought 
at the time to be a great blow 
to our cause, as it was hoped 
that he would do much to bring 
the war to an end, and to lead 
the troops out of their sore 
straits. 

In the mean-time Wash-ing- 
ton was on his way to cross the 
Del-a-ware. There was snow 
on the ground, and the march 
of the troops could be traced 
by the blood-spots from the 
feet of those whose shoes were 
worn out. 

The red-coats were in force 
at Tren-ton, in charge of a man, 
named Rahl, who had done 
brave work for King George at 



White Plains and Fort Wash- 
ing-ton. 

Wash-ing-ton's plan was to 
add to his force, and, as soon as 
he could, cross the Del-a-ware 
and strive to wrest Tren-ton 
from the hands of the foe. He 
and his force were to cross the 
stream nine miles north of the 
town ; Gen-er-al Ew-ing was 
to cross with his troops a mile 
south of the town ; and Gen- 
er-al Put-nam to leave at a point 
south of Bur-ling-ton. 

It was a bold scheme, full of 
risk to all who took part in it, 
yet there was naught to be 
done but to push on, and hope 
for the best. 



CHAPTER XL 



A SAD YEAR 



Christ-mas night was the 
time set to cross the Del-a-ware, 
and at sun-set the troops were 
on the move. It was a dark, 
cold night. The wind was high, 
the tide strong, and the stream 



full of cakes of ice which drove 
the boats out of their course. 
It seemed at times as if the 
boats would be crushed to bits. 
Men who were used to boats, 
and had been brought up on 




CROSSING THE DELAWARE. -P. 7«. 



\ 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



79 



the sea, and had fought with 
fierce storms and wild gales, 
found it hard work, with all 
their skill, to make their way 
from shore to shore: 

Wash-ing-ton, who crossed 
with the troops, stood on the 
east bank till all the field-guns 
were brought to land, and it 
was four o'clock ere the men 
took up their line of march. 
Tren-ton was nine miles off, 
and they could not reach there 
till day-light, too late to take the 
King's troops off their guard. 

Most of the troops at Tren- 
ton were Hes-sians, from Hes- 
se, a small Ger-man state whose 
prince had lent his troops to 
King George for hire. As I 
have told you they were in 



charge of Rahl. 



Rahl thought 



more of his brass band than he 
did of his men, was full of good 
cheer and liked to have a good 
time. He would sit up till a 
late hour in the night, and then 
lie in bed till nine o'clock the 
next day. 

The one who leads troops to 
war should be like a watch-dog. 



quick to see and to hear all that 
goes on, and to be on guard at 
all times. 

Each day he had the guns 
drawn out and dragged through 
the town, just to make a stir 
and have the band out. But 
when the Ma-jor told him that 
he should have earth - works 
thrown up on which to place 
the guns he said, " Pooh! pooh! 
Let the foe come on ! We'll 
charge on them with the bay- 
o-net ! " 

"But Herr Col-o-nel," said 
the old Ma-jor, *Tt costs not 
much, and if it does not help it 
will not harm." 

But Rahl laughed as if he 
thought it a good joke, turned 
on his heel and went off, and 
the works were not thrown up. 

On this night, too, there was 
a great stir in the camp at Tren- 
ton, for the men did their best 
to keep Christ -mas, and their 
thoughts were of home and the 
dear ones there. They made 
what cheer they could, and did 
not dream that the foe was 
so near. 



8o 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



A storm of hail and snow set 
in as soon as our troops took 
up their march. They could 
scarce see their way through 
the sleet they had to face. The 
nieht was so cold that two of 
the men froze to death. At 
dawn of day some of the men 
came to a halt at a cross-road, 
where they did their best to dry 
their guns. But some were past 
use, and word was sent to 
Wash-ing-ton of the state of 
their arms. They were in doubt 
what to do. 

Wash-ing-ton in a burst of 
rage bade the man go back to 
his chief at once, and tell him 
to push on and charge if he 
could not fire. 

At eight o'clock Wash-ing- 
ton drew near the town at the 
head of his troops. He went 
up to a man who had come out 
to chop wood by the road-side 
and asked him where the guard 
was who stood at the out-post 
of Rahl's camp. 

The man said in a harsh 
voice, " I don't know." 

" You may tell him," said one 



of our men who stood near, 
'' for that is Gen-er-al Wash- 
ing-ton." 

At once a great change came 
o'er the' man to whom Wash- 
ing-ton spoke. He raised his 
hands, and cried, " God bless 
you ! God bless you ! " and then 
showed where the guards could 
be found. 

Soon was heard the cry from 
Rahl's men, " The foe ! the foe! 
turn out! turn out!" Drums 
beat to arms. The wdiole place 
was in a stir. Wash-ing-ton 
came in on the north, Sul-li-van 
on the west, and Stark at the 
south end of the town. 

Rahl scarce knew how to act. 
He rode to the front of his 
troops and got them out of the 
town. Then he seemed to feel 
that it was a shame to ny in 
that w^ay, for he w^as a brave 
man, so he led his men back in 
a wild dash out of the woods and 
in-to the town to meet the foe. 

In the midst of the fight, a 
shot struck him and he fell from 
his horse. The troops would 
heed no voice but that of their 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



chief, and fled up the banks of a 
creek on the way to Prince-ton. 

Wash -ing- ton saw the stir 
and thought they had wheeled 
to form a new line. He was 
told that they had laid down 
their arms, and his joy was 
great. The day was ours ! 

But for the wild flight of 
Rahl's men, it would have gone 
hard with our troops. Wash- 
ing-ton did not know it at the 
time, but he found out that 
Ew-ing and Put-nam had tried 
to cross the stream but were 
kept back by the ice, and he 
with his raw troops would, he 
was sure, have been put to rout 
had Rahl and his men been on 
their guard. 

The poor Ma-jor, who had in 
vain urged Rahl to throw up 
breast-works, had a bad wound 
of which he died in Tren-ton ; 
and Rahl him-self, to whom the 
red-coats owed their ill-luck, 
was laid to rest in a grave-yard 
in that town. 

And where was Gen-er-al 
Howe all this time ? In New 
York, where he thought to take 



his ease till the Del-a-ware froze 
so that his troops could cross. 
He was much shocked at the 
news that the Hes-sians who had 
been brought up to war should 
have laid down their arms for a 
troop of raw men in rags. He 
sent Lord Corn-wal-lis back to 
take Jer-sey, and, as he said, 
'* to bag the fox." 

By the third of Jan-u-a-ry red- 
coats, with Corn-wal-lis at their 
head, were near at hand. Wash- 
ing-ton was in a tight place, with 
a small creek 'twixt his few raw 
troops and the large force of the 
foe. Back of him lay the Del- 
a-ware which it was now not 
safe to cross. 

In this dark hour a gleam of 
hope came to his mind. He 
saw a way out of the trap, and 
that was by a quick night-march 
to get at the rear of the King's 
troops, dash on the camp at 
Prince-ton, seize the stores that 
were left there, and push on to 
New Bruns-wick. 

A thaw had set in which 
made the roads deep with mire, 
but in the course of the night 



82 



LIFE OF WASHIXGTOy. 



the wind veered to the north, 
and in two hours the roads were 
once more hard and frost-bound. 

That the foe might not guess 
his plan, Wash-ing-ton bade 
some of his men keep at work 
with their spades on the pits 
near the bridge, go the rounds, 
change guards at each bridge 
and ford, and keep up the camp- 
fires till day-break, when they 
were to join those on the way 
to Prince-ton. 

In the dead of the night 
Wash-ing-ton drew his troops 
out of camp and the march took 
place. The road which they 
had to take was cut through 
woods, and the stumps of the 
trees made the march a slow 
one, so that it was near sun- 
rise when Wash-ing-ton came 
to the bridge at the brook three 
miles from Prince-ton. 

As our troops left the woods 
they came face to face with a 
force of red-coats, and a sharp 
fight took place, which did not 
last long. 

Wash-ing-ton was in the 
midst of it. In the heat of the 



fight, his aide-de-camp lost 
sight of him in the dusk and 
smoke. The young man drop- 
ped the reins on the neck of 
his horse, drew down his cap to 
hide the tears in his eyes, and 
gave him up for lost. When he 
saw Wash-ing-ton come out 
from the cloud with his hat 
raised and the foe in flight, he 
spurred up to his side. 

" Thank God you are safe !" 
cried he. 

*'A-way, and bring up the 
troops," said Wash-ing-ton, 
" the day is our own ! " 

At day-break, when Gen-er-al 
Howe thought to bag his fox, 
he found the prize had slipped 
from his grasp, and soon learned 
that the King's troops had lost 
their hold on New Jer-sey. 

The fame of Wash-ing-ton, 
and of the brave deeds of those 
who fought to be free, went a- 
cross the sea, and made friends 
for him and the cause. Not a 
few came to their aid. One of 
these brave souls was a Pole, 
whose name was Kos-ci-us-ko. 

The com -mand-er- in -chief 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



83 



said to him '* What do you seek 
here?" 

" To fight for the cause you 
have at heart." 

"What can you do?" 

"Try me." 

This style of speech, and the 
air of the man, pleased Wash- 
ing-ton so well that he at once 
made him an aide-de-camp. 
This was in 1777. He served 
the cause well, and went back 
to his own land in 1786 with the 
rank of Brig-a-dier Gen-er-al. 

In 1777 La-fay-ette came 
from France to join the troops 
led by Wash-ing-ton. He had 
wealth and high rank in his own 
land, and had lived but a score 
of years. He left his young 
wife, and the gay court of 
France, and made his way to 
A-mer-i-ca to do what he could 
to aid the foes of King George. 

He came, he said, to learn and 
not to teach, and would serve 
with-out pay, and as one who 
came of his own free-will. 

He soon won his way to the 
heart of Wash-ing-ton, and a 
strong bond of love grew up 



'twixt the two which naught 
but death could break. 

In the mean-time the whole 
of our land south of the Great 
Lakes was a scene of strife and 
blood -shed, and it was hard 
work for our troops to keep the 
red-skins and red-coats at bay. 

I have not space to tell you 
of all the fights that took place, 
nor the ways in which Wash- 
ing-ton sought to vex the 
King's troops. 

On the third of Oc-to-ber of 
this year — 1777 — we find him 
at Ger- man -town, where the 
main force of the red-coats were 
in camp. His plan was to drive 
them out, but though his troops 
fought with much skill and in 
the midst of a dense fog, they 
were forced back, and the day 
was lost. 

The ships-of-war in the Del- 
a-ware led Wash-ing-ton to 
think that Lord Howe meant 
to turn his guns on P,hil-a-del- 
phi-a, and his mind was filled 
with doubts and fears. 

In the same month word came 
to him that Bur-goyne — who 



84 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



was at the head of the King's 
troops in the north — had been 
forced to yield to Gen-er-al 
Gates at Fish-kill. This was 
such a blow to the King's cause 



that the troops at West Point and 
else where on the Hud-son, who 
were to have gone to the aid of 
Bur-goyne, left the forts and 
made their way to New York. 



CHAPTER Xn. 



FOES IN THE CA.MP. 



It is much worse to have one 
foe in the camp than to have a 
host of foes out -side, for who 
can tell what harm he may do 
who comes in the guise of a 
friend ? 

In the year 1774 a young 
man, named John An-dre, came 
with the King's troops, and 
fought in their ranks at St. 
John's and Crown Point. 

He had a brave heart, and a 
fine mind, and did much to keep 
up the hearts of the men when 
in the camp. He was fond of 
the fair sex and had praised in 
rhyme the charms of a Miss 
Ship-pen who wed Ben-e-dict 
Ar-nold in the year 1780. 

Ar-nold had fought well on 



our side at the north, and won 
much praise. He had been a 
sea-man in his youth, and was 
both strong and brave. But 
he grew proud and vain, and 
sought to rank as high as the 
Com - mand - er - in - chief, with 
whom he found much fault. 

Wash-in g- ton had great faith 
in him, and did not dream he 
was false at heart. 

For some ill -deeds while at 
Phil-a-del-phi-a Ar-nold had 
been brought to court and tried 
and his guilt proved, and this 
had made him wroth with A\^ash- 
ing-ton, and the cause he had 
sworn to aid. 

He sought for a way to pay 
back the slight and raise him- 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



85 



self to fame. With this end in 
view he wrote to Sir Hen-ry 
Chn-ton — but did not use his 
own name — that he would like 
to join the cause of King George 
on the terms that he set forth. 
He was in need of funds for he 
was deep in debt, but Clin-ton 
did not see fit to make use of him. 

Two or three more of his 
schemes failed, and at last he 
asked that he might have charge 
of the post at West Point. This 
Wash-in g-ton gave him, and in 
Au-gust Ar-nold fixed him-self 
in a fine house that stood on the 
east side of the stream, half a 
mile or so south of West Point. 

From this place he sent notes 
to An-dre, the aide-de-camp of 
Clin-ton, who wrote back and 
signed his name John A71- 
der-son. 

Ar-nold' s plan was to throw 
W^est Point and the High-lands 
in-to the hands of Sir Hen-ry 
Clin-ton at the time that Wash- 
ing-ton was at King's Bridge, 
and the En-glish troops in New 
York. 

A fleet, with a large land force 



on board, was to come up to the 
High-lands, and Ar-nold would 
at once yield up the post in- 
to their hands. This act he 
thought would bring the war 
to an end, with the flag of King 
George at high mast, and then 
great would be the name and 
fame of Ben-e-dict Ar-nold. 

That the scheme might not 
fail, Ar-nold wrote to An-dre to 
meet him at Dobb's Fer-ry, 
Sep-tem-ber 11, at noon. 

But Ar-nold had spent the 
night of the loth at Hav-er- 
straw, on the west shore, and 
on his way back in his barge, 
as he had no flag, he was fired 
on by the guard boats of the 
King's troops. So he had to 
put off his plans for a day 
or two. 

In the mean-time the sloop- 
of-war Vtd-tiire — a good name 
for such a bird of prey — was 
brought up the Hud-son so as 
to be near at hand to aid in the 
vile scheme. 

On Sep-tem-ber 18, Wash- 
ing-ton with his suite crossed 
the Hud -son at Ver-planck's 



86 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



Point, in Ar-nold's barge, on 
his way to Hart-ford. Ar-nold 
went with him as far as Peeks- 
kill, and talked with him in a 
frank way, and as if he were 
most true to the cause. 

An-dre went up the Hud-son 
on the 20 th and went on board 
the Vul-ture where he thought 
to meet Ar-nold. But Ar-nold 
knew it would not be safe for 
him to be there ; so he kept in 
the back-ground. 

The next night a boat crept 
up to the side of the l^itl-ture 
in which were two men. Their 
oars scarce made a sound. 

An - dre, who wore a blue 
great coat, went on board this 
boat and was rowed to the west 
side of the stream. Six miles 
south of Sto-ny Point they 
came to shore at the foot of a 
high mount known as the Long 
Clove. It was mid-night. Dark 
was the hour, and dark the place, 
and dark the deed. 

Ar-nold was there hid in the 
shade of the woods. A man 
was near who came to wait on 
him and take care of his horse. 



He and An-dre had a long talk. 
One, two, three hours passed, 
and still there was more to say. 
One of the men who had brought 
An-dre, and whose name was 
Smith, warned them that it was 
near day-break, and the boat 
would be seen by our guards 
if they did not go back soon. 

Ar-nold feared that the sight 
of a boat on its w^ay to the Vul- 
ture might bring harm to him 
and his scheme, so he urged 
An-dre to stay on shore till the 
next night. The boat was sent 
to a creek up the Hud-son, and 
An-dre on the horse that Ar- 
nold's man had rode, set off with 
Ar-nold for Smith's house. 

The road took them through 
the small town of Hav-er- 
straw. As they rode on in the 
dark the voice of one of the 
guards at an out-post made An- 
dre start, for he knew he must 
be with-in our lines. But it was 
too late to turn back, and at 
day-break they reached Smith's 
house. 

Scarce was the door closed 
on them when the boom of great 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



guns was heard from down the 
stream. An-dre felt ill at ease, 
and had crood cause for fear. 

The fact was that as soon as 
Liv-ing-ston, who had charge 
of our troops at Ver-planck's 
Point, heard that the Viil-tufe 
w^as with-in shot of Tel-ler s 
Point, which juts out 'twixt 
Hav-er-straw Bay and Tap- 
pan Sea, he sent some men and 
some big guns to that point in 
the night to fire on the sloop- 
of-war. 

An-dre kept a close watch on 
the scene from a top room in 
Smith's house. At one time he 
thought the Viil-ture was on 
fire ; but his heart gave a throb 
of joy when he saw the sloop- 
of-war drop down the stream 
out of reach of gun shot. 

Ar-nold gave An-dre the 
plans of the works at West 
Point, and told him what and 
how he was to do. As the 
Vul-ture had changed her place, 
he told An-dre it would be far 
more safe for him to go back to 
New York by land. And he 
would reach there in less time. 



But An-dre said that he must 
be put on board the sloop-of- 
war the next night; and in case 
he should change his mind Ar- 
nold gave him a pass that he 
might go by sea or by land. 
At ten o'clock that morn Ar- 
nold left him to his fate. 

Time moved at a slow pace 
with poor An-dre. Once on 
board the Vul-tiire Ke would be 
safe ; his task would be done, 
and West Point would soon be 
in the hands of the red-coats. 
As night set in he grew still 
more ill at ease, and asked 
Smith how he had planned to 
get him on board the Vul-tufe. 

It gave him a shock to learn 
that Smith had not done the 
least thing. The boat-men had 
gone home, and he would not 
take him on board the Vid-ture. 
But he said he would cross the 
Hud -son with him and start 
him on the road to New York 
by land, and go some of the 
way with him on horse-back. 

They set off at sun-set, and 
went for eight miles on the road 
to White Plains when they were 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



brought to a halt by a band 
of our troops who were out as 
watch -men. 

An - dre showed his pass 
signed with Ar-nold's name, 
and so they took him for a friend 
and not a foe. He wore a coat 
of Smith's that made him look 
like a plain man. 

The two were warned that it 
was not safe for them to be on 
the road at night, as they might 
meet the Cow -Boys from the 
King's troops, who but a short 
time since had swept through 
that part of the land. 

Smith was full of fears, and 
An-dre had to yield to his wish 
to take a bed in a farm-house 
near at hand. This they did, 
but An-dre could not sleep. He 
knew that he was not safe. At 
day-break he woke Smith, and 
made him haste to leave the 
place. 

Two and a half miles from 
Pine's Bridge, on the Cro-ton 
Riv-er, An-dre and Smith took 
a scant meal at a farm-house 
which had been stripped by the 
Cow- Boys. 



Here Smith took leave of 
An-dre, who was to go the rest 
of the way to New York a-lone. 
He felt no fear now, as he had 
passed our lines, and was clear 
of those who kept watch on the 
out-posts. 

Six miles from Pine's Bridge 
he came to a fork in the road. 
The left branch led to White 
Plains. The right branch led 
to the Hud - son. He had 
thought at first that he would 
take the left hand road, as the 
right one was said to be filled 
with Cow-Boys. But he had 
naught to fear from them, as he 
was on their side; and as it was 
a more straight road to New 
York, he turned down it and 
took his course on the banks of 
the Hud-son. 

He had not gone far when he 
came to a place where a small 
stream crossed the road and ran 
down a dell that was thick with 
trees. A man stepped out with 
a gun and brought An-dre to a 
stand. Two more armed men 
came up to aid the first one, 
whose name was Paul -ding. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON'. 



89 



Paul-ding's coat was in rags, 
and was of the kind that was 
worn by the King's troops. 
When An-dre caught sight of 
it his heart leapt for joy, for he 
was sure he was safe. So sure 
that he did not guard his tongue. 
He asked the men if they were 
on his side, and they said they 
were. He then told who he 
was, and that he had been sent 
to a post up the Hud-son and 
was in haste to get back. As 
he spoke he drew out a gold 
watch, such as few owned in 
those days, and none but men 
of wealth. 

Think what a shock it must 
have been to An-dre when Paul- 
ding said they were not his 
friends but his foes, and he was 
in their hands. 

Then An-dre tried to make 
out that what he first told was 
a lie, but that he would now tell 
the truth; and he drew forth his 
pass to prove that he was all 
right. Had he done this in the 
first place he might have gone 
on his way. " A still tongue 
shows a wise head." 



The men seized his horse by 
the rein and told An-dre to get 
off He warned them that he 
had been sent out by Gen-er-al 
Ar-nold and that they would 
be ill dealt with if they held 
him back. 

"We care not for that," they 
said, as they led him through 
the shrubs on the edge of the 
brook. They then went to work 
to search him, and took note of 
the way in which he was drest. 
They were poor men, and had 
not had a chance to see such 
fine clothes. 

An-dre wore a round hat, a 
blue great-coat, 'neath which 
was a red coat decked off with 
gold -lace, a nan -keen vest, 
small-clothes and boots. . 

They made him take off his 
coat and vest, and found naught 
to prove that he had sought to 
harm their cause, and they had 
a mind to let him go. 

Paul -ding, who had been 
twice in the hands of the red- 
coats and ill-used by them, was 
still not quite free from doubt. 
A thought came to his mind. 



90 



LIFE OF WASHIXGTOX. 



"Boys," said he, *'his boots 
must come off." 

At this An-dre's face flushed, 
and he said that his boots were 
hard to get off, and he begged 
that he might not lose time in 
this way. 

But the men were firm. They 
made him sit down, his boots 
were drawn off, and the plans 
that Ar-nold gave him were 
brought to light. 

Paul-ding looked at them and 
cried out, 

" He is a spy !" 

He then asked An-dre where 
he had got these plans. " From 
a man at Pine Bridge" he said ; 
"a man whom I did not know." 

As he put on his clothes An- 
dre begged the men to let him 
go. He would pay them a 
large sum, and stay with two 
of the men while one went to 
New York to get it. 

Here Paul -ding broke in, 
"Keep your gold! We want 
none of it. Were it ten times 
as much, you should not stir 
one step ! " 

An-dre had to yield to his 



fate, and was led by the men 
to our post which was ten or 
twelve miles off. An-dre rode 
on horse-back with one man in 
front, and one at each side. 

At noon they came to a farm- 
house, and those who dwelt 
there sat at the mid-day meal. 
The house -wife, whose heart 
was touched by a sight of An- 
dre's youth and look of grief, 
asked him to draw near and 
take some of the food. Then 
as she caught sight of his gold- 
laced coat, the good dame said 
that she knew it was poor fare 
for such as he, but it was the 
best she had. 

Poor An-dre shook his head, 
and said, '• Oh, it is all good, 
but in-deed I can-not eat! " 

Wlien the four reached the 
out -post and Jame-son, who 
was in charge, saw the plans 
that had been found on An-dre, 
he at once saw that they had 
been drawn up by the hand of 
Ben-e-dict Ar-nold. 

Pie at once did the thinsr 
he ought not to have done, 
which was to write to Ar-nold, 



LIFE OF WASHIXGTOX. 



and tell him that a man who 
said his name was John Aii- 
der-son had been caught, and 
held, though he bore a pass 
signed by him. The plans 
found on him had been sent to 
the Com-mand-er-in-chief, and 
An-dre, with a strong guard 
was sent with the note to Ar- 
nold. 

In a short time, Ma-jor Tall- 
madge, who was next in rank 
to Jame-son, came back from a 
trip to White Plains. He had 
a clear head, and as soon as he 
heard the case he at once urged 
Jame-son to send a man in haste 
to bring An-dre back. This 
was done, but Jame-son had 
not thought to have the note 
to Ar-nold brought back, so it 
sped on to let the knave know 
that his plot had failed. 

As soon as Ar-nold read the 
note he sprang on the horse of 
the man who brought it, and 
rode with all speed to the dock 
where his six-oared barge lay 
moored. He threw him-self in- 
to it and bade his men pull out 
in mid-stream and row as fast 



as they could to Tel-ler's Point, 
as he must be back in time to 
meet Wash-ing-ton, who was 
then on his way to West Point. 

The guards knew his barge, 
so they did not fire on it, and a 
bit of white cloth waved in the 
air served as a flag of truce. 
He soon was on board the Vitl- 
ture, where he gave him-self 
up, and the cox-swain and six 
barge-men with him. This was 
a mean act, and showed just 
what kind of a man Ar-nold 
was, but as soon as the men 
made it known that they had 
been led to think that all was 
right, and that a flag of truce 
gave them a safe pass, they 
were at once set free. 

Ar-nold gave the red-coats 
much aid, and they were glad 
to make use of him. But they 
did not care to make friends 
with so base a man. At the 
close of the war, he went to 
Eng-land, and made his home 
there. He was shunned by all, 
and died in the year 1801, at 
the age of three-score. 

As Wash-ing-ton drew near 



92 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



the fort at West Point, he 
thought it strange that no guns 
were fired. " Is not Gen-er-al 
Ar-nold here?" he asked of 
the man who came down to 
the shore to meet him. 

" No, sir. He has not been 
here for two days past ; nor 
have I heard from him in that 
time." 

This was strange ; but soon 
the note from Jame-son was 
placed in his hands, and when 
he had read of the deep-laid 
scheme, he said with a deep sigh, 
"Whom can we trust now?" 

Word was at once sent out to 
the guards to check Ar-nold's 
flight, but it was too late. He 
had slipped from their grasp. 

Let us now see how An-dre 
bore his hard fate. He had the 
best of care, and made hosts of 
friends, who grieved that one 
so young, so well-bred, and of 
such high rank, should have 
done a crime for which he must 
be hung. 

It was a great grief to Wash- 
ing-ton, who would have felt 
no pang had Ar-nold been in 



An-dre's place. But death to the 
spy! was one of the rules of war, 
and Oc-to-ber 2 was the day 
set for An-dre to be hung. He 
had asked that since it was his 
lot to die he might choose the 
mode of death ; and begged 
that he might be shot. This 
Wash-ing-ton could not grant, 
though in his heart he longed 
to do so; but thoucrht it best 
that An-dre should not know. 

On the morn of the 2d, An-dre 
drest him-self with great care, 
in the full suit worn by those 
who bore his rank in the King's 
troops. He was calm, while all 
those near him were in tears. 

He walked with a firm step 
to the place where he was to 
end his life, arm in arm with 
two of our troops. When he 
caught sight of the rope he 
gave a start, and asked if he 
was not to be shot. AVhen told 
that no change could be made, 
he said " How hard is my 
fate! — But it will be but a briet 
pang ! " 

Then he stepped in-to the 
cart, took off his hat and stock, 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



91 



loosed his shirt at the throat, 
put the noose round his neck 
and bound his own eyes. 

When told that there was a 
chance for him to speak if he 
chose, he said " I pray you to 
note that I meet my fate like a 
brave man." 

Then the cart was moved off 
and he was left in mid-air, and 
death took place in a short time. 
An-dre was laid in a grave near 
the place where he was hung, 
but in 1 82 1 was borne to the 



land of his birth, and placed 
near the tombs of Kings and 
Queens. 

He that breaks laws must 
pay the price. If you want to 
make friends, and to have them 
love and trust you — be true. 
Let no one coax you to sin. 
The eye of God is on you, and 
he sees all your deeds. You 
may hide your crime for a while, 
but you may " be sure your sin 
will find you out." Be not an 
Ar-nold nor an An-dre. 



CHAPTER XHL 



THE HARDSHIPS OF WAR, 



We will now go back to the 
place we left, and see where 
Wash-ing-ton was at the close 
of the year 1777. He had been 
forced to leave New Jer-sey in 
the hands of the King's troops. 
His own troops were worn down 
by long and hard toil, and had 
need of rest. They were in 
want of clothes too, and could 
not keep warm in the tents, so 



he sought out a place where 
they could build huts and screen 
them-selves from the cold winds 
and storms. 

He chose Val-ley Forge, 
which was on the west bank of 
the Schuyl (school)-\i\W. Riv-er, 
and a score of miles from Phil- 
a-del-phi-a. Sad was the march 
of the troops to Val-ley Forge. 
Food was scant, their clothes 



94 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



were worn out, and a track of 
blood marked the way they 
trod. They had fought hard, 
but not to win, and this made 
their hearts low. 

On De-cem-ber 17, they 
reached Val-ley Forge, and 
had to freeze in their tents till 
they could cut down the trees 
and build the huts they were 
to live in. 

The walls were six feet and a 
half high, and were made of logs 
filled in with clay. The roofs 
were made of logs split in half. 

No pen can paint the hard 
lot of those poor men shut in 
at Val-ley Forge. For some 
days they had no meat. For 
three days they had no bread. 
Some of the men had to sit up 
all night by the fires, as there 
were no clothes for their beds, 
and they could not sleep for the 
cold. Some of the men were 
so scant of clothes that they 
could not leave their huts. 

Wash-in g- ton was kept short 
of funds and of troops, though 
he plead haid for both, and was 
sore pressed on all sides. He 



scarce knew what to do. There 
was but one thing he could do, 
and that was to wait. 

While his troops were in this 
sad plight — some of them sick 
un-to death — the red-coats, who 
held Phil-a-del-phi-a in siege, 
led a gay sort of life, and were 
much at their ease. 

Near the first of March a 
Ger-man came to Wash-ing- 
ton's camp to lend him his aid. 

His name was Bar-on Steu- 
ben. He had fouQ^ht for lon^r 
years in the wars that had been 
waged in Eu-rope, had been 
aide-de-camp to Fred-er-ick 
the Great, and had won much 
fame by his brave deeds. The 
French, who were friends to 
our cause, knew that we had 
need of such a man as Bar-on 
Steu-ben, and urged him to 
come to A - mer - i - ca, and he 
was at once sent to join the 
troops at Val-ley Forge. 

Our troops had had no chance 
to drill, there was no one to 
teach them, and they had fought 
with a rush and a dash, and in 
a pell-mell sort of way. Steu- 




rr •< J 



WINTER AT VALLEY FORGE. -P. 94-. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



95 



ben went to work to drill these 
men, the best of whom had 
much to learn, and he found it 
a hard task at first as he could 
not speak our tongue. At last 
a man was found who spoke 
French, and him Steu-ben made 
his aide-de-camp and kept him 
close at hand. 

The men were slow to learn, 
for the drills were new to them, 
and Steu-ben would get wroth 
with them and call them '' block- 
heads," and all sorts of hard 
names. But though he had a 
sharp tongue, and was quick to 
get in a rage, he had a kind, 
true heart, and soon won the 
love of the men. 

For eight months the red- 
coats had held Phil-a-del-phi-a. 
In the spring Gen-er-al Howe 
went home, and left his troops 
in charge of Sir Hen-ry Clin- 
ton, who made up his mind to 
lead the troops back to New 
York. But he did not wish his 
plans to be known. 

In the mean-time, Wash-ing- 
ton knew that a scheme of some 
sort was on foot — so he sent 



troops out to check the King's 
troops should they move by 
land. The red-coats left Phil- 
a-del-phi-a on June i8, and as 
there was but one road for them 
to take, their train stretched out 
for twelve miles. They made a 
halt at Al-len-town, and Clin- 
ton had not quite made up his 
mind which way to go from 
that place. He at first thought 
he would go as far as the Rar- 
i-tan Riv-er, and then ship his 
troops to New York ; but when 
he found that our troops were 
not far off, he turned to the 
right and took the road to Mon- 
mouth. 

His march was a slow one; 
the heat was great ; the rains 
made the roads bad, and they 
had to stop to bridge the 
streams, and to build cause* 
ways so that they could cross 
the swamps. 

Wash-ing-ton in the mean- 
time had gone on to Kings-ton; 
but as soon as he learned Clin- 
ton's course, he moved his 
troops so as to get in the rear 
of the red-coats. 



96 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



On the night of June 27, the 
foe went in camp on the high 
ground near Mon-mouth Court 
House. The van-guard of our 
troops was five miles off, and 
in charge of Gen-er-al Lee. 

At day-break the van-guard 
of the red-coats set forth down 
the hill, while Clin -ton with his 
choice troops staid in camp on 
the heights of Free -hold, to 
give the long train of carts and 
pack mules a chance to get well 
on the way. At eight o'clock 
all were in line of march to 
Mid-die-town. 

As soon as Lee heard that 
the foe were on the move, he 
set out to meet them, and was 
joined by the troops in charge 
of La-fay-ette. As Lee stood 
on one of the hills he caught 
sight of a band of red -coats 
hid some-what by the woods, 
which he thought was a part 
of the main force. So he sent 
some of his troops to draw their 
fire and check them in the rear, 
while he with the rest of his 
force would take a short cut 
through the woods, get in front 



of the corps, and cut it off from 
the main force. 

Wash -ing- ton was on his 
way with his main force, when 
the boom of big guns rang out 
on the air. The sound caused 
him to change his pace to a 
quick step, and when he drew 
near Free-hold church, where 
the road forked, he sent Greene 
with part of his force to the 
right, while he with the rest of 
the troops took the left hand 
road. 

Wash-ing-ton stood on the 
ground with his arm thrown 
up on the neck of his horse, 
when a man rode up and said 
the blue -coats were in flight. 
Wash-ing-ton was vexed, for he 
was quite sure it was not true. 
Then up came one with fife in 
hand, quite out of breath, and 
in great fright. He was seized 
at once so that he would not 
scare the troops then on their 
way, and told that he would be 
flogged if he dared to spread 
the tale he had brought. 

Wash-ing-ton sprang on his 
horse, and sent men out to learn 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



97 



the truth, while he spurred past 
the Free-hold church. The news 
seemed too strange to be true. 
He had heard but a few guns, 
and did not think there had been 
much of a fight. Was Lee to 
blame for this wrong move? 
He feared so. As he reached 
the high ground he saw Lee 
and his men in full flight, and 
by this time he was in a fine rage. 

"What do you mean by this?" 
he asked in a fierce stern tone 
as Lee rode up to him. 

At sight of W^ash-ing-ton's 
face Lee was struck dumb for 
a-while, but when he could speak 
he tried to tell why he had 
thought it best to fall back. 
There was not much time for 
a talk, as the foe were not far 
off The sight of their Com- 
mand-er-in-chief put a stop to 
the flight, and plans were at 
once made to turn the luck. 
The place where they were was 
good for a stand, as it was on 
high ground which the foe could 
not reach but by a cause-way. 

Lee knew that Wash-ing-ton 
had lost faith in him, so he held 



back, and would give no aid to 
his chief Wash-ing-ton rode 
back to Lee in a calm mood, 
and said to him; "Will you 
keep the com - mand on this 
height, or not? If you will, I 
will go back to the main force 
and have it formed on the next 
height." 

Lee said it was all the same 
to him where he was placed, 
that he would do just as Wash- 
ing-ton said, and " not be the 
first to leave the ground." 

Soon guns were heard on 
both sides. Lee and his men, 
who were in the fore- ground 
made a brave stand, but were 
at length forced to fall back. 
Lee brought off his troops in 
good style by the cause-way 
that crossed the swamps, in 
front of our troops in charge of 
Lord Stir-ling, and was the last 
to leave the ground. When he 
had formed his men in line back 
of the swamp, he rode up to 
Wash-ing-ton, and said, "Here, 
sir, are my troops, what do you 
wish me to do with them ? " 

Wash-ing-ton saw that the 



98 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



men were worn out with long 
tramps, hard fights, and the 
great heat, so he told Lee to 
take them to the rear, and call 
in all those he might meet with 
who had fled from his ranks. 

The foe sought to turn both 
our flanks, but were checked 
by a sharp fire, and at length 
they gave w^ay and fell back to 
the ground where Lee had been 
that morn. Here the woods 
and swamps were on their flanks, 
and their front could not be 
reached but by the cause-way. 
Great as was the risk, Wash- 
ing-ton made up his mind to 
charge on the foe, and this was 
his plan : Gen-er-al Poor was 
to move round on their right, 
Gen-er-al Wood-ford on the 
left, while the big field guns 
should gall them in front. But 
night set in ere they could act 
on this plan. Some of the troops 
had sunk on the ground, and all 
were in need of rest. Wash- 
ing-ton told them to lie on their 
arms just where they chanced 
to be when it grew dark, as he 
meant to go on with the fight at 



dawn of the next day. He lay 
on his cloak at the foot of a tree, 
and La-fay-ette lay near him. 

At day-break the beat of 
drums roused them from their 
sleep, but the foe had fled, and 
had been so long on the way 
that Wash-ing-ton could not 
hope to check them. 

Our loss in the fight at Mon- 
mouth was 69, while 250 of the 
King's troops were left dead on 
the field. Some of the troops 
on both sides had died in the 
swamp, and some were found 
on the edge of a stream that 
ran through it, where, worn out 
with their toils, and weak from 
heat and thirst they had crawled 
to drink and die. 

Lee's pride had been so hurt 
that he wrote to W^ash-ing-ton 
in a way that he should not 
have done to his Com-mand- 
er-in-chief, and he was brought 
to court by the Board of War 
and tried for his wrong deeds. 
His guilt was proved, and he 
was told that he could not serve 
for the next twelve months. 
He went to his home in \^ir- 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



99 



gin-i-a where he led a queer 
kind of a life. His house was 
a mere shell, and had but one 
room, but lines were chalked on 
the floor and each space was 
used as if it was a room by it- 
self Here was his bed, there 
were his books ; in this space 
he kept all his horse gear, and 
in that one he cooked and ate 
his meals. 

With pen and with tongue 
he strove to harm Wash-ing- 
ton, whom his shafts failed to 
hurt, and who spoke not an ill 
word of Lee. He liked him as a 
friend but did not think he was 
fit to lead troops to war. Lee 
died in the course of four years, 
and on his death-bed he thought 
he was on the field of war, and 
his last words were a call to his 
men to stand by him. 

For a year or two more the 
strife was kept up on the coast 
from Maine to Flor-i-da, and 
both red -coats and red -skins 
took part in scenes that chill the 
blood to read of Houses were 
burnt and land laid waste, forts 
were stormed and seized from 



our troops whose force was too 
small to hold them. Now and 
then there was a gain for our 
side, but in spite of his ill luck 
Wash-ing-ton held on with a 
brave heart, and would die at 
his post but would not yield. 

In the first part of the year 
1780 we find Wash-ing-ton in 
camp at Mor-ris-town, with a 
lot of half- fed and half- clad 
troops. 

No such cold had been known 
in this zone. The Bay of New 
York froze so hard that the 
ships-of-war that lay in it were 
ice-bound. Food was scant, 
and there was a lack of fire- 
wood. 

Wash-ing-ton saw what a 
chance there was for a bold 
stroke, but he had no funds 
with which to fit out his troops, 
or to move them to the coast. 
The cost of war was great, and 
gold was scarce. He could not 
strike a big blow for New York, 
to wrest it from the hands of the 
foe, as he might have done at 
this time had his troops been 
well-fed and well-clad, but he 



lOO 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



would do what he could in a 
small way. 

A bridge of ice had formed 
'twixt New Jer-sey and Stat-en 
Isl-and, so Wash-ing-ton sent 
Lord Stir-ling with 2,500 men 
to start up and seize a force of 
1,200 red-coats. His lord-ship 
crossed in the night, but was 
seen and had to fall back to 
E-liz-a-beth-town. Some of 
his men fell in-to the hands of 
the King's troops, and some in- 
to the hands of Jack Frost. 

This raid gave a start to the 
foe and they set out to tease 
and vex our out-posts, which 
they thought could be done at 
small risk, as there was snow 
on the ground, and the troops 
could be borne on sleighs. 

Not far from White Plains — 
and a score of miles from the 
out-posts of the red-coats — 300 
of our men had a post in a stone 
house known as Young's house, 
as that was the name of the man 
who owned it. It faced a road 
which ran north and south down 
through a rich plain, and so on 
to New York. Our men kept a 



close watch on this road, to stop 
the red-coats who mie'^ht seek 

o 

to pass with food or live-stock. 
The red -coats made up their 
mind to break up this nest of 
blue - birds, and the night of 
Feb-ru-a-ry 2, was set for the 
task. 

The King's troops set out 
from King's Bridge, some in 
sleighs and some on horse-back. 
The snow was deep, and it was 
hard for the sleighs to break 
their way through. The troops 
at length left them, and marched 
on foot. They could not bring 
their field guns with them. 
Now and then they would come 
to a place where the snow was 
more than two feet deep, and 
they had to take by-ways and 
cross roads so as not to get 
near our out-guards. 

The sun rose while they were 
yet six miles or more from 
Young's house. This spoiled 
their plan, but still they kept 
on. Ere they could reach the 
house, the news flew like wild- 
lire that the red-coats were near, 
and men left their farms and 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



lor 



homes to aid those in Young's 
house. But though they fought 
well, they had not strength to 
hold the fort. Not a few were 
killed. The house was sacked 
and set on fire, and the red-coats 
made haste to get back to their 
lines with those of our men 
whom they had seized, and who 
were sent to New York and put 
in the vile jails there. 

In the year 1780, France sent 
ships-of-war and troops to aid 
our cause, and to drive the red- 
coats from New York. The 
French troops were in charge 
of Count de Ro-cham-beau, 
who was told to do just as 
Wash-ing-ton said; for he was 
Com-mand-er-in-chief 

Wash-ing-ton's heart gave a 
throb of joy at this proof of 
good-will, and his grief was 
that he had not more troops of 
his own to join with these that 
he might push for New York 
at once. He must wait till the 
rest of the French troops, then 
on their way, came to port. 

In the mean-time his thoughts 
were turned to the South, where 



the red-coats, led by Corn-wal- 
lis, waged a fierce war. Our 
troops there were in charge of 
Gen-er-al Greene, who was full 
of cheer, and did his best to 
keep the foe at bay, but with 
poor luck as his force was small. 

But Wash-ing-ton had faith 
in him ; yet such a large force 
of the King's troops had been 
sent by sea to aid Corn-wal-lis 
that Wash-ing-ton feared that 
Greene would not be safe. So 
he wrote to La-fay-ette, who 
was on his way to meet the 
French fleet that had been sent 
to Ches-a-peake Bay, to push 
on and join the troops at the 
South. 

At this time Wash-ing-ton 
was at a place near West Point, 
and his whole force on the 
Hud-son, in May 1781, was not 
more than 7,000; half of whom 
were not fit to take the field. 

Here word came to him of 
feuds at the North, and that the 
foe were in force on the north 
side of Cro-ton Riv-er. 

Col-o-nel De-lan-cey, who 
led this raid, held the place that 



I02 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



An-dre had filled, and bore the 
same rank, and De-lan-cey's 
horse-men were the dread of 
all those who dwelt in that part 
of the land. Our troops had 
an out-post not far from Pine's 
Bridge, in charge of Col-o-nel 
Greene of Rhode Isl-and, who 
had served all through the war. 

De-lan-cey set out at night 
at the head of loo men on 
horse-back and 200 on foot. 
They crossed the Cro-ton at 
day -break, just as the night- 
guard had been called off, and 
bore down on the out-post. 

They first went to the farm- 
house where Col-o-nel Greene 
and Ma-jor Flagg slept, and put 
a strong guard round it. Ma- 
jor Flagg sprang from his bed, 
threw up the sash, and fired at 
the foe, but was shot through 
the head and then hacked with 
sword cuts and thrusts. 

They then burst through the 



door of Greene's room. He was 
a man of great strength, and 
for some time kept the foes at 
bay with his sword, but at last 
he fell, for what could one man 
do in such a fight? 

By the time the troops sent 
out by Wash-ing-ton reached 
the post, De-lan-cey's men had 
flown. They tried to take Greene 
with them, but he died on the 
way, and they left him at the 
edge of the woods. 

Wash-ing-ton felt sad at 
heart when he heard of the 
death of his brave and true 
friend, Col-o-nel Greene, and 
the next day he had his corpse 
brought to the west bank of 
the Hud-son. Guns were fired 
to tell that one who had fought 
well had gone to his rest, and 
strong men shed tears as he 
was laid in his grave, for his 
loss was a source of great grief 
to all. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



103 



CHAPTER XIV. 



THE CLOSE OF THE WAR, 



In the month of May, Corn- 
wal-Hs had planned to bring 
his troops to Pe-ters-burg and 
strike a blow at La-fay-ette, who 
was near Rich-mond. La-fay- 
ette fled as soon 3.s he heard 
that Corn-wal-lis had crossed 
the James Riv-er, for he had 
but few troops and did not care 
to bring on a big fight till the 
men came up who were then on 
the way to aid him. 

Corn-wal-lis thouQ^ht he could 
soon catch "the boy" — as he 
called him — but his youth made 
him spry, and the red-coats did 
not get up to him. 

On June 10, Gen-er-al Wayne 
came up with 900 men, to add 
to La-fay-ette's strength, and 
this made him change his whole 
plan. With 4,000 men and 
Ba-ron Steu-ben he might hope 
to win in a fight with the red- 
coats, and he turned his face to 
the foe. Corn-wal-lis was at that 



time 'twixt La-fay-ette and Al- 
be-marle Court House, where 
stores were kept. The Mar- 
quis, by a night march through 
a road that had long been out of 
use, got in front of the King's 
troops, and held them in check. 

Corn-wal-lis turned back, and 
marched first to Rich-mond, 
and then to Will -iams- burg, 
while La-fay-ette kept close in 
his rear. Here they had a 
fierce fight, in which the loss 
was great on both sides, and 
the gain but small. 

At this time word came to 
Corn-wal-lis that Wash-ing-ton 
had borne down on New York 
and that he must send some of 
his troops to that town. This 
would leave him too weak to 
stay where he was, so on Ju-ly 
4 he set out for Ports-mouth. 

La-fay-ette gave chase the 
next day and took post nine 
miles from his camp. His plan 



I04 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



was to fall on the rear- guard, 
when the main force should have 
crossed the ford at James-town. 
But Corn-wal-lis guessed what 
he meant to do and laid a trap 
for him. A sharp fight took 
place, in-to which Wayne threw 
him-self like a mad-man, but 
the foe were as ten to one and 
our troops were forced back to 
Green Springs. 

In Ju-ly La-fay-ette wrote to 
Wash-ing-ton that Corn-wal-lis 
had left Ports -mouth by sea, 
and he thought he was on his 
way to New York. It was true 
the troops had gone on board 
the boats, but though wind and 
tide were fair they did not sail. 

With the French fleet to 
help him, Wash-ing-ton saw a 
chance to fight the foe by land 
and sea, so he turned from New 
York and marched to Vir-gin-i-a 
to. aid La-fay-ette, who longed 
to have his chief at the head of 
his troops but did not know he 
was so near. 

As our war-worn troops went 
through Phil-a-dei-phi-a they 
were hailed with shouts and 



cheers from, the throngs that 
filled the streets. They kept 
step to the sound of the drum 
and fife, and raised a great cloud 
of dust, for there had been quite 
a drought. 

The French troops passed 
through the next day, but not 
in the same style. They made 
a halt a mile from the town, 
where they brushed off the 
dust from their guns, and their 
gay white and green clothes, 
and then marched with a light 
step to the sound of a fine band. 
Crowds were on the streets, and 
bright smiles and loud shouts 
met these who had come from 
France to lay down their lives 
if need be for the cause we had 
at heart. 

When Wash-ing-ton turned 
his back on New York, Sir 
Hen-ry Clin-ton sent word to 
Corn-wal-lis that he would not 
need the troops he had asked 
for ; so Corn-wal-lis went from 
Ports - mouth to York - town, 
wnere he took his stand. 

York-town was a small place 
on the south side of York 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



105 



Riv-er. The stream at this 
point was not more than a mile 
wide, but it was so deep that 
ships of large size and weight 
could oro throucrh. Here he 
threw up works on both sides 
of the stream, which gave him 
a fine strong-hold, as the banks 
were high and set out from the 
main-land. He thought there 
was no foe near but La-fay-ette, 
and he had no great fear of one 
so young. 

He felt so safe that he wrote 
to Clin-ton that he could let 
him have a large force of men 
to add strength to New York, 
where it was thought our troops 
would strike the next blow. 

In the mean-time La-fay-ette 
threw out troops to the rear, to 
work with the French fleets that 
would soon be in Ches-a-peake 
Bay, and so a net was drawn 
round Corn-wal-lis at a time 
when he thought he was most 
safe. 

Wash-in g- ton was at Phil-a- 
del-phi-a on Sep-tem-ber 5, and 
at Bal-ti-more three days from 
that time. He left Bal-ti-more 



on the ninth, at day-break, with 
but one of his suite, as he was 
in haste to reach Mount Ver- 
non. The rest of his suite rode 
at their ease, and joined him 
the next day at noon. It v/as 
six years since Wash-ing-ton 
had seen his old home, and how 
full of toil and care those years 
had been ! In three days he had 
to leave the dear old place, and 
with his guests push on to join 
La-fay-ette, who was at Will- 
iams-burg. By Sep-tem-ber 
25, the French and our troops 
were in camp near that town, 
and at once set to work to get 
things in train for the next fight. 
Corn-wal-lis had built forts 
on the north and south banks of 
the stream, and had done all he 
could to add strength to York- 
town. Ships -of- war were in 
front, and boats had been sunk 
at the mouth of the stream. 
Field-works were at the rear 
with big guns on top, and there 
were long rows of trees that 
had been cut down and left so 
that their limbs stuck out and 
made a fence it would not be 



io6 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



safe to climb. At the right and 
left of York-town were deep 
dells and creeks, and it was not 
strange that Corn-wal-lis felt 
that he was in a sure strong- 
hold. 

Our troops were twelve miles 
off when they took up their 
march on Sep-tem-ber 28, and 
that night they went in camp 
two miles from York -town. 
Wash-ing-ton and his staff slept 
on the ground, his head on the 
root of a tree. The next morn 
our troops drew out on each 
side of Bea-ver Dam Creek, 
the A-mer-i-cans on the east 
side and the French on the west. 
The Count de Grasse, with the 
main fleet, staid in Lynn Ha- 
ven Bay so as to keep off the 
ships that might come from sea 
to aid the red-coats. 

On the night of the first of 
Oc-to-ber our troops threw up 
two earth-works, on which the 
red-coats turned their guns at 
day -light and killed three of 
the men. While Wash-ing-ton 
stood near the works a shot 
struck the ground close by him 



and threw up a great cloud of 
dust. One of his staff who 
stood near was in a great fright, 
but Wash-ing-ton was calm and 
showed no signs of fear. 

On Oc-to-ber 6, our troops 
set out to dig the trench that 
the first line would use in the 
siege of York-town. So dark 
was the night, and so still were 
the men, that the foe did not 
know of it till day-light. Then 
they fired on them from the 
forts, but the men were screened 
and kept at their work. By the 
ninth the trench was dug and 
the guns fixed to fire at the town. 

Wash-ing-ton put the match 
to the first gun, and a storm of 
balls and bomb -shells dared 
Corn-wal-lis to come out and 
fight. For three or four days 
the fire was kept up on both 
sides, and bomb-shells crossed 
in mid-air, and at night flashed 
forth like great stars with tails 
a blaze of light. Our shells did 
much harm in the town, and to 
the earth-works of the foe. 

'fhe red-hot shot from the 
French forts north-west of the 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



107 



town reached the King's ships- 
of-war. The Char-on a 44 gun 
ship, and three large boats for 
troops, were set on fire by them. 
The flames ran up to the tops 
of the masts, and as the night 
was dark the scene w^as a grand 
one to the eye, but a sad one to 
the heart. 

On the night of the iith, a 
new ditch was dug by the troops 
led by Bar-on Steu-ben, and 
for two or three days the foe 
kept up a fire on the men at 
work. 

At eight o'clock on the night 
of Oc-to-ber 14, they set out 
to storm both York-town and 
the Point on the north bank at 
the same time. 

The van-guard of our troops 
was led by Al-ex-an-der Ham- 
il-ton. When at school he 
wrote to one of his boy friends, 
" I wish there was a war;" and 
in 1776 when he w^as but 19 
years of age, he was placed at 
the head of the men who fired 
the guns and bomb-shells. The 
next year he was aide-de-camp 
to Wash-in g- ton, in w-hom he 



found a true and wise friend. 
W^ith great joy and pride Ham- 
il-ton led the van in a head-long 
dash past the trees, which they 
pushed or pulled dow^n with 
their own hands, where they 
could not climb them, and w^as 
the first to mount the wall. 
One of his men knelt so that 
Ham-il-ton could use him for 
steps, and the rest of the men 
got up the best way they could. 
Not a gun was fired, and the 
fort fell in-to the hands of our 
troops with a small loss on both 
sides. 

The French stormed the fort 
at the Point in as brave a way, 
but wdth less speed, and lost 
more men. 

Wash-ing-ton stood on the 
ground in the grand fort where 
he could see all that took place. 
An aide -de - camp near him 
spoke up and said that he ran 
a great risk from a chance shot 
through one of the port-holes. 
"If you think so," said Wash- 
ing-ton, "you can step back." 

Soon a ball struck the gun in 
the port-hole, rolled on, and 



io8 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



fell at his feet. Gen-er-al Knox 
seized him by the arm. " My 
dear Gen-er-al," said he, "we 
can't spare you yet." 

" It is a spent ball," said 
Wash-ing-ton in a calm voice ; 
" no harm is done." 

When each charge was made 
and both forts were in our 
hands, he drew a long breath, 
turned to Knox and said, "The 
work is done and well done!'' 
Then he said to his black man, 
"Bring me my horse," and rode 
off to see where next his lines 
should move, and how the trap 
• could be closed on Corn-wal-lis. 

Corn -wal- lis found that he 
could not hold his forts ; no 
troops had come to his aid, and 
he would soon have to yield to 
the foe. 

This was too much for his 
pride, so he made up his mind 
to leave those who were sick or 
had wounds, and fly from York- 
town. His scheme was to cross 
the stream at night, fall on the 
French camp ere day -break, 
push on with all speed, and 
force his way to the north and 



join Sir Hen-ry Clin-ton in New 
York. 

A large part of his troops 
had crossed the stream on the 
night of Oc-to-ber i6, and the 
rest were on their way when a 
fierce storm of wind and rain 
drove the boats down the 
stream. They could not be 
brought back till day-light and 
it was then too late for them to 
move on or to turn back. 

The hopes of Lord Corn-w^al- 
lis were at an end, and on the 
17th he sent a flag of truce 
and a note to Wash -ing- ton 
and asked that his guns might 
cease their fire for one day so 
that terms of peace could be 
drawn up. 

Wash-ing-ton feared that in 
the mean-time troops from New 
York would reach Corn-wal-lis, 
so he sent word back that his 
guns should cease their fire for 
but two hours. Wash-ing-ton 
did not like the terms drawn up 
by Corn-wal-lis, so he made a 
rough draft of such terms as he 
would grant. These were sent 
to Corn-wal-lis on the 19th, and 





THE SURRENDER AT YORKTOWN.-P. 1 09. 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



109 



he was forced to sign them, and 
in two hours his troops were to 
march out of the forts. 

At noon our troops were 
drawn up in two lines more 
than a mile in length ; the 
A-mer-i-cans on the right side 
of the road, the French on the 
left. At two o'clock the red- 
coats passed out with slow 
steps, and were led to a field 
where they were to ground 
their arms. Some of them, in 
their rage, threw down their 
guns with such force as to well 
nigh break them. 

On the day that Corn-wal-lis 
had been forced to lay down his 
arms at York-town, the lars^e 
force that was to aid him set 
sail from New York. They did 
not reach Ches-a-peake Bay till 
Oc-to-ber 29, and when they 
found they were too late they 
turned their prows and went 
back to New York. 

The down-fall of Corn-wal-lis 
was felt to be a death-blow to 
the war, and great joy was felt 
through -out the land. Votes 
of thanks were sent to Wash- 



ing-ton, to De Ro-cham-beau 
and De Grasse, and Wash-ing- 
ton gave high praise to all the 
troops for the way in which 
they had fought at the siege of 
York-town. 

From that time the red-coats 
lost heart, and on No-vem-ber 
25» 1783, they marched out of 
New York, and Wash-ing-ton 
marched in at the head of his 
brave men, who had fought and 
bled and borne all the ills that 
flesh could bear that the land 
they loved might be free. 

In a few days Wash-ing-ton 
was called to An-nap-o-lis to 
meet with those who made the 
laws, and his chief men who 
had been with him through all 
the sad scenes of the war, came 
to bid him good-bye. 

With a heart full of love he 
said to them, ** I can-not come 
to each of you to take my leave, 
but shall be glad if each of you 
will come and take me by the 
hand." This they did. No one 
spoke a word. Tears were in 
all their eyes. 

Wash-ing-ton left the room, 



no 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



and went on foot to the boat 
which lay at the end of what 
was then and is now White-hall 
Street. His friends kept close 
in the rear. When Wash-ing- 



ton was in his barge he turned, 
took off his hat, and waved good- 
bye, and those on shore did the 
same, and watched the barge 
till it passed out of their sight. 



CHAPTER XV. 



FIRST IN PEACE. 



At the close of the war, and 
of the year 1783, Wash-ing-ton 
went back to Mount Ver-non. 
He reached his home to his 
great joy on the eve of Christ- 
mas day, and he was in a good 
state of mind to keep the feast. 

"The scene is at last closed," 
he wrote, " and I am eased of 
a load of care. I hope to spend 
the rest of my days in peace." 

Mount Ver-non was locked 
in ice and snow for some time. 
Wash-ing-ton wrote that he 
was so used to camp life that 
he could not help feel when he 
woke each day that he must 
hear the drums beat, and must 
go out to plan or to lead his 
troops. He was now at his 



ease, and longed for the spring 
so that his friends could come 
to him. " My way of life is 
plain," he said ; " I do not mean 
to be put out of it. But a glass 
of wine and a bit of meat can 
be had at all times." 

He would not give notes of 
his life to those who wished to 
write it up at this time lest it 
should look vain. "I will leave 
it to those who are to come to 
think and say what they please 
of me," he wrote. " I will not 
by an act of mine seem to boast 
of what I have done." 

As spring came on, friends 
flocked to Mount Ver-non, and 
Wash-ing-ton met them in a 
frank way. His wife, too, was 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



full of good sense and good 
cheer. She loved to knit, and 
had been used all through the 
war to knit socks for the poor 
men who were in the ranks. 

But as Wash -ing- ton took 
his rides through his place, he 
felt the changes there since he 
had left. Old friends were gone, 
and the scenes of his youth 
were no more. La-fay-ette 
spent a few days with him, and 
the love he felt for the brave 
young man was as strong as 
at first. 

He wrote a s?d note to him 
when he was gone which showed 
what a warm place the young 
French-man had in his heart. 
He said, " As you left me, I 
asked if this were the last sight 
I should have of you. And 
though I wished to say * No,' 
my fears said ' Yes.' I called 
to mind the days of my youth 
and found they had long since 
fled to come back no more. I 
must now go down the hill I 
have climbed all these years. I 
am blessed with strength, but I 
come of a short-lived race, and 



may soon go to the tomb. All 
these thoughts gave a gloom 
to the hour in which I parted 
with you." 

Wash -ing -ton made a trip 
through some of the states of 
the West, and saw there was a 
chance for great trade there,, 
and he wrote much of what he 
had seen. But his chief joy 
was in his home 'and land, 
where he planted trees and loved 
to watch them grow. He writes 
down each month of what he 
sets out ; now it is a choice sHp 
of grape vine from France ; or 
it may be a tree that stays green 
all the year round. Some of 
the bushes he set out still stand 
strong in their growth on the 
place. 

He notes the trees best for 
shade and which will not hurt 
the grass. He writes of rides 
to the Mill Swamp in quest of 
young elms, ash trees, and white 
thorn, and of the walks he lays 
out and the trees and shrubs he 
plants by them. 

A plan of the way in which 
he laid out his grounds is still 



112 



LIFE OF WASHINGTOIS. 



kept at Mount Ver-non, and the 
places are marked on it for the 
trees and shrubs. He owned 
five farms, and he kept maps of 
each. He read much of soils, 
the way to raise good crops, 
and the best style of ploughs 
and farm tools to use. He rode 
the first half of the day to see 
that all went well. When he 
had dined, he would write till 
dark if he had no guests. If 
friends came he did all he couH 
to make them feel at ease and 
at home. He was kind, and 
loved by all. He would not 
talk much of the war nor of 
what he had done in it. He 
took great care not to talk of 
his own acts, so that if there 
had been a guest who did not 
know the facts, he would not 
have found out by a word from 
Wash-ing-ton that he was one 
who had won a great name in 
the eyes of the world. 

Though grave in his looks 
and ways, he loved to see youth 
glad and gay. He was fond of 
the dance, and it was long the 
boast of more than one fair 



dame that she had danced with 
the chief. There had been 
balls in camp in the dark days 
of the war. 

Wash-ing-ton, as we have 
seen, had been fond of the hunt 
in his youth, and La-fay-ette 
sent him some hounds from 
France, so he took up his old 
sport. But the French hounds 
did not do well, and he found 
they could not be trusted. 

Ere the war had been long 
past, it was found that there 
was need of new laws by which 
the States should be ruled. The 
chief men of the land were 
called to Phil- a- del -phi -a to 
form them, and W^ash-ing-ton 
went from Mount Ver-non to 
take part in the work It ^\'as 
then that the code of laws was 
drawn up which bears the name 
of " Con - sti - tu - tion of the 
U-ni-ted States.' 

These laws said that the 
States should be ruled by a 
Pres-i-dent. The choice for 
this post fell on Wash-ing-ton, 
and in the spring of 1788 he 
bade good-bye to Mount Ver- 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



113 



non and made his way to New 
York, where he was to take the 
oath that he w^ould serve the 
land and be true to her in peace 
and in war. 

As he passed through the 
towns, crowds came out to cheer 
him, flags were raised, guns 
roared, and at night there was 
a great show of fire-works. 

When he came to Tren-ton, 
the place where in the past he 
had crossed the stream in the 
storm, through clouds of snow 
and drifts of ice, he found a scene 
of peace and love. Crowds 
were on the bank, the stream 
gleamed in the sun, the sky 
was blue, and all hailed him 
with joy. 

On the bridge that crossed 
the Del -a- ware an arch was 
raised and twined with wreaths 
of green and gay blooms. As 
Wash-ing-ton passed 'neath it 
a band of young girls, drest in 
white and with wreaths on their 
heads, threw bright blooms at 
his feet, and sang an ode that 
spoke the love and praise that 
were in all hearts. 



At E-liz-a-beth-town Point he 
was met by men who had been 
sent from New York, and led 
to a barge which had been made 
for his use. It was filled with 
sea-men of high rank, who made 
a fine show in their white suits. 

Boats of all sorts, gay with 
flags, and some with bands on 
board, fell in the wake of Wash- 
ing-ton's barge, and as they 
swept up the bay of New York 
the sight was a grand one. The 
ships at the wharves or in mid- 
stream, dipped their flags, and 
fired their guns, bells were 
rung, and on all the piers were 
great crowds that made the air 
ring with their shouts. 

On the last day of A-pril, 
1789, Wash-ing-ton took the 
oath in front of the hall where 
the wise men of the land had 
been wont to meet in New- 
York. He stood in full view 
of a great crowd to whom this 
was a new and strange sight. 
The States were to be as one, 
and this man, whose name and 
fame were dear to them, was to 
pledge him-self to keep them so. 



114 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



On a ledge that bulged out 
from the main part of the house, 
was a stand spread with a rich 
red cloth on which lay the Word 
of God, the Book of Books. 
Wash-ing-ton was clad in a full 
suit of dark-brown home-made 
cloth, white silk hose, and dress 
sword with steel hilt, and his 
hair was drest in the style of 
the day. 

As he came in sight he w^as 
hailed with the shouts of the 
crowds in the streets and on the 
roofs. He came to the front of 
the ledge close to the rail, so 
that he could be seen by all, laid 
his hand on his heart, bowed 
three or four times, and then 
went back and took his seat in 
an arm-chair near the stand. 

In a short time he rose and 
went once more to the front 
with John Ad-ams, wdio was to 
be next him in rank, and the 
friends who were to stand by 
him in this new field. While 
the oath was read Wash-ing- 
ton stood with his hand on the 
Word of God, and at the close 
he said, " I swear — so help me 



God ! " One of the men would 
have raised the book to Wash- 
ing-ton's lips, but he bent his 
head and kissed it. 

Then there was a cry of 
" Long live George Wash-ing- 
ton ! " and all the bells in the 
towm rang out a peal of joy, 
and the crowd rent the air with 
their shouts and cheers. • 

Wash-ing-ton bowed and 
made a speech that was full of 
good sense. Then all went on 
foot to St. Paul's Church to 
pray that God would bless the 
land. 

Wash-ing-ton felt most of 
all as he wrote to his friends, a 
fear lest he should come short 
of what the land hoped to find 
in him. The eyes of the world 
were on him. He had won 
fame in the field, but how would 
he rule the State ? There was 
still much to be done. Great 
Brit-ain held some of the posts 
at the West, on the plea that 
debts due to some of her men 
had not been paid; the red-men 
were still a source of fear to the 
homes in the Wild West; and 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



115 



there was no hard cash with 
which the States could pay 
their debts. 

He found that his time was 
no more his own. From dawn 
till dark men came to him, and 
he saw that he must be saved 
from this or he could do no 
work. Mrs. Wash - ing - ton 
joined him and soon days were 
fixed for the calls of friends. 
The house was kept well, but 
there was no waste. One who 
dined there wrote that there 
was no show. The Pres-i-dent 
said a short grace as he sat 
down. One glass of wine was 
passed to each, and no toasts 
were drank. He was kind to 
his guests and strove to put 
them at their ease. He was 
strict in the way he kept the 
Lord's day. He went to church 
and would have no calls on 
that day. 

As to Mrs. Wash -ing -ton, 
those who knew her at the time 
speak of her as free from all art. 
She met her guests in a well- 
bred way as one who had ruled 
in a great house. She, too. 



was more fond of their home 
at Mount Ver-non than of the 
new rank and place. To stay 
at home was the first and most 
dear wish of her heart. 

Wash-ing-ton was touched 
to the quick wdien he heard that 
some one had said that there 
was more pomp at his house 
than at St. James, where King 
George held his court, and that 
his bows were much too stiff 
and cold. 

Wash - ing - ton wrote, " I 
grieve that my bows w^ere not 
to his taste, for they were the 
best I can make. I can say 
with truth that I feel no pride 
of place, and would be more 
glad to be at Mount Ver-non 
with a few friends at my side, 
than here with men from all the 
courts of the world." He then 
goes on to tell how they treat 
their guests. "At two or three 
o'clock each Tues-day they 
come and go. They go in and 
out of the rooms and chat as 
they please. When they first 
come in they speak to me, and 
I talk with all I can. What 



ii6 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



pomp there is in all this I do 
not see !" 

The red-men, who could not 
be kept in peace, roused the 
land once more to arms. Wash- 
ing-ton did not wish for war, 
but he had to call out troops. 
They went forth and laid waste 
In-di-an towns. Wash-ing-ton 
thought it would be a good 
plan to meet the In-di-an chiefs 
and talk with them. Three 
chiefs came to him, and said 
they would go to the rest and 
try to make peace. Wash-ing- 
ton made a set speech and told 
them it would be a good work 
to do, or else those tribes, "if 
they thieved and killed as they 
had done, would be swept from 
the face of the earth." 

He had thought much of the 
state of the red-men in the land. 
He had but small faith in schools 
for the youth, save as far as to 
teach them to read and write. 
The true means to do them 
good, he thought, was to teach 
them to till the ground and 
raise crops in the same way as 
the white folks, and he said if 



the tribes were pleased to learn 
such arts, he would find a way 
to have them taught. 

In the end, Gen-er-al St. Clair 
had to be sent out with troops to 
put the red-men down. Wash- 
ing-ton's last words to him were 
to be on the watch, for the red- 
skins were sly and would wait 
for a chance to find him off his 
guard. 

But St. Clair did not pay heed 
to these wise words, and the 
red-skins got in-to his camp, 
some of his best men were slain, 
and the whole force was put 
to rout. 

When the news was brought 
to Wash-ing-ton he said in a 
quick way, " I knew it would 
be so ! Here on this spot I 
took leave of him and told him 
to be on his guard! I said to 
him * you know how the red- 
skins fight us ! ' I warned him — 
and yet he could let them steal 
in-to his camp and hack and 
slay that ar-my ! " He threw 
up his hands, and his frame 
shook, as he cried out "O what 
a crime ! what a crime ! " 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



117 



Then he grew calm, and said 
that St. Clair should have a 
chance to speak, and he would 
be just to him. St. Clair was 
tried, and was found free from 
guilt. 

Wash-ing-ton's"mo-ther died 
at Fred-er-icks-burg, Vir-gin- 
i-a, Au-gust 25, 1789, aged 82. 
When her son first went to war, 
she would shake her head and 
say, '*Ah, George should stay 
at home and take care of his 
farm." As he rose step by step, 
and the news of his fame was 
brought to her, she would say 
** George was a good boy," and 
she had no fear but that he 
would be a good man, and do 
what was right. 

In the year 1789, a great war 
broke out in France, in which 
Lou-is XVI lost his crown and 
his head, and deeds were done 
that you could scarce read of 
with -out tears. Men seemed 
like fiends in their mad rage, 
and like wild beasts in their 
thirst for blood. 

In 1793 France made war on 
Eng-land ; and in 1797 sought 



to break up the peace of the 
Un-i-ted States, but of this I 
will tell you by and by. 

In the mean -time the four 
years — which was the full term 
Wash - in g- ton was to rule — 
came to an end. He had no 
wish to serve for two terms, 
but the choice fell on him, and 
he once more took the oath, 
on March 4, 1792. In 1796, as 
France was still at war, it was 
thought best that Wash-ing- 
ton should hold his place for a 
third term. 

But this he would not do. He 
had made up his mind to leave 
these scenes and to give up that 
sort of life, and those who plead 
with him could not move him. 
He took leave of his friends 
in a way that moved them to 
tears ; and his fare-well speech, 
though in plain style, touched 
all hearts and made them feel 
what a loss it was to part with 
so great and good a man. 

On March 4, 1797, John Ad- 
ams took the oath, and bound 
him-self to serve as Pres-i-dent 
for a term of four years. Wash- 



ii8 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



in Q"- ton was there, and as he 
rose to leave the house there 
was a great rush to the door, as 
all wished to catch the last look 
of one who had had for so long 
a time the first place in their 
hearts. So great w^as the crush 
that it was feared there would 
be loss of limbs if not of life. 

As Wash-ing-ton stood in 
the street he waved his hat 
as cheer on cheer rose from 
the crowd, and his gray hairs 
streamed forth in the wind. 
When he came to his own door 
he turned to the throng with a 
grave face and tried to say a 
word or two. But tears rose 
to his eyes, his heart was full, 
and he could not speak but 
by signs. 

He soon set off for Mount 
Ver-non, the dear home of his 
heart. He had been there but 
a few months when the French, 
by their acts, seemed to want 
to bring on a war with the 
U-ni-ted States. They took 
our ships at sea, and there was 
no way left but to stand up 
for our rights. 



Pres-i-dent Ad-ams wrote to 
Wash-ing-ton, " We must have 
your name, if you will let us 
have it. There will be more 
in it than in a host of men ! If 
the French come here we shall 
have to march with a quick 
step." 

Wash-ing-ton wrote to Pres- 
i-dent Ad-ams, "I had no 
thought that in so short a time 
I should be called from the 
shade of Mount Ver-non. But 
if a foe should come in our land, 
I would not plead my age or 
wish to stay at home." 

He saw the dark clouds that 
showed a storm, and he feared 
his days of peace would be few. 
It was with a sad heart that he 
felt his rest was at an end, but 
he had so strong a sense of 
what was right that he did not 
hold back. He said he would 
do all he could for the troops, 
but he would not take the field 
till the foe was at hand. 

For months Wash-ing-ton 
led a life full of hard work. He 
had much to do for the troops, 
and at the same time work at 



LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 



119 



home. He would write for 
hours, and took long rides each 
day. To his great joy, there 
was, in the end, no war with 
France, 

He seemed in first-rate health 
up to De-cem-ber 12, 1799. 
On that day a storm set in, first 
of snow, then of hail, and then 
of rain, and Wash-ing-ton was 
out in it for at least two hours. 
When he reached the house his 
clerk, Mr. Lear, saw that the 
snow hung from his hair, and 
asked him if he was not wet 
through. '' No," said Wash- 
ing-ton, "my great coat kept 
me dry." But the next day his 
throat was sore and he was quite 
hoarse; and though much worse 
at night he made light of it and 
thought it would soon pass off 

When he went to bed Mr. 
Lear asked him if he did not 
think it best to take some-thing. 
"Oh, no," said Wash-ing-ton. 
" Let it go as it came." But 
he grew worse in the night, and 
it was hard for him to breathe, 
and though his wife wished to 
call up one of the maids he 



would not let her rise lest she 
should take cold. 

At day-break, when the maid 
came in to light the fire, she 
was sent to call Mr. Lear. All 
was done that could be done to 
ease him of his pain, but he felt 
him-self that he had but a short 
time to live. Mr. Lear was like 
a son to him, and was with him 
night and day. 

When Mr. Lear would try to 
raise and turn him so that he 
could breathe with more ease, 
Wash-ing-ton would say, "I 
fear I tire you too much." 
When Lear told him that he 
did not, he said, " Well, it is a 
debt we must all pay, and when 
you want aid of this kind I 
hope you'll find it." 

His black man had been in 
the room the whole day and 
most of the time on his feet, and 
when Wash-ing-ton took note 
of it he told him in a kind voice 
to sit down. 

I tell you these things that 
you may see what a kind heart 
he had, and how at his last 
hour he thought not of him-self 



120 



LIFE OF WASHINGTOIS. 



His old friend, Dr. Craik; 
who stood by his side when he 
first went forth to war, in the 
year 1754, was with him in 
these last hours, when Death 
was the foe that Wash-ing-ton 
had to meet. He said to Dr. 
Craik, " I die hard, but I am 
not a-fraid to go, my breath 
can-not last long." He felt his 
own pulse, and breathed his 
last on the night of De-cem-ber 
14, 1799. 

His wife, who sat at the foot 
of the bed, asked with a firm 
voice, "Is he gone?" Lear, who 
could not speak, made a sign 
that he was no more. "'Tis 



well," said she in the same voice. 
"All is now at an end, and I 
shall soon join him." 

Thus lived and died this great 
and good man, " first in war, 
first in peace, and first in the 
hearts of" those who love "the 
land of the free." 

Praise did not spoil him or 
make him vain ; but from first 
to last he was the same wise, 
calm, true friend, full of love to 
God and of good-will to man. 

Great and good men have 
been born in-to the world, but 
none whose name and fame 
rank as high as that of George 
Wash-ing-ton. 



LHBFenB 



